


Lone Wolf

by Kikileduc



Series: Alone [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Canon Compliant, F/M, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Makeup, Minor Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, Misunderstandings, One-Sided Relationship, Pack Dynamics, Post-Season/Series 02, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stiles-centric, wolf pups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 12:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikileduc/pseuds/Kikileduc
Summary: Complete spin off after season 2, but does have season 3 and so on elements.Stiles feels forgotten, he feels left out. So he does something about it, while getting reacquainted with nature he stumbles on to something else. If the pack doesn't need him, if his dad wants him to stay out of it all, well, maybe he just needs a distraction in the form of 3 adorable wolf cubs!Officially fully beta'd by the wonderful Splash_of_biMany, many thanks for all your hard work!





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is offically beta'd by the wonderful and amazingly quick Splash_of_bi 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“You have reached the voice mailbox of Scott McCall.” Stiles sighed as he hung up without leaving a message. At least his best friend is consistent. It was officially the second week of summer vacation. Stiles has spent the majority inside allowing his bruises to heal from Gerard's beating (no amount of time could heal his bruised ego) and he was more than a little stir crazy.

The pack had been oddly quiet, although, he supposed that was to be expected now that the immediate danger had subsided. Gerard was on the loose but spewing black blood and certainly not in any position to kidnap and torture wolves or teens. Matt was dead. Allison and Scott were working on their issues. Allison had heard the truth behind her mother’s death and was slowly moving towards acceptance. Isaac had officially moved in with Mrs. McCall and rumor had it she was going through the process of fully adopting him. Boyd and Erica safely returned to Derek from their stint in the Argent basement. Derek was surprisingly apologetic about some of his training exercises and working on being a more supportive alpha. Last he saw of Lydia and Jackson, they were heavily making out in the school parking lot, leaning up against his Porsche. Jackson’s eyes had a faint glow about them as he struggled with control of his newly acquired wolfish tendencies. Stiles didn't know where Peter had gone off to, but he could only assume and hope the Zombie wolf was under his alpha’s control and no longer a threat. But, no one needed him, so Stiles spent the last couple of weeks of school relatively alone. Scott had invited him to the movies for the premier of the latest Marvel movie this Friday, but that was two weeks ago and he hasn't answered the phone since.

Stiles spent the majority of his time researching. What are lasting effects from the kanima, what is a ‘spark’, how long does it take for a bruised rib to heal, true love conquers all, really?, healing and poison potential of wolfsbane. Basically, a little bit of everything. His thirst for knowledge truly was never ending. However, he was going to lose his mind if he spent another day with no one to talk to.

His dad had a lot to deal with now that the station was severely understaffed after the kanima and Matt fiasco. The sheriff’s time off was so limited, he was lucky to have time to eat and sleep, let alone spend time with his delinquent of a son who had more connections to the towns odd crimes than he would like to admit. There wasn't time for a proper conversation with his son, so he didn't notice the lack of Scott in his house. He didn't see the lonely look in his son's eyes.

After failing to make plans with Scott yet again, Stiles decided he needed a change of scenery. His bedroom walls were making him feel claustrophobic. The woods behind his house were too close to the Hale property, and he wasn't sure if Derek’s residence was still the abandoned train car or if he went back to haunting his old house, so to avoid awkwardly walking where he may not be wanted, Stiles opted to take his Jeep out of town to a campsite his family had frequented once upon a time when they were whole. His mother had loved the nature trails, especially this time of year when the butterflies and bird sightings would be plentiful.

It was nice to get some fresh air and visit the park he once played in. They had a small jungle gym that was great for attempting pull ups. Might as well try and bulk up for lacrosse season, coach would probably notice...might get him off the bench. He spent the whole day mapping the trails in his head as they intertwined within each other. He practiced finding north and managed to get lost only a few times. He did trip an absurdly higher number of times, and ended up with a few new bruises and a tear in his jeans, but overall, he counted the nature break as a win and promised himself to do it again soon. The day was peaceful.

It was on his way back into town just as the sun was setting and Stiles was planning on what to do with the chicken breast he had put in the fridge to thaw, that he saw it. A suspicious lump on the side of the road. He considered driving on, make it someone else's problem. But, this area was pretty remote, he had to pull over. Half a year of supernatural shenanigans taught Stiles to exit the Jeep with caution. He gripped his phone in one hand and reached for his pilfered baseball bat he kept in the back seat. Thank you, Mrs. McCall. As typical luck would have it, the lump turned out to be a body. A fairly young woman, maybe college aged. Stiles didn't recognize her. Obvious ligature marks on the neck, but her neck was, oddly, also slashed. Further inspection revealed a head wound as well. Stiles contemplated if that was possible from landing here on a rock or curb but he didn't see any blood on the rock-free ground. The only blood was on the victim’s shirt which was stained red because of the shallow neck wound. Then it hit him. He is staring at a dead body. A bloody, dead body. The wave of nausea was overwhelming. Quickly taking a seat on the side of the road, he pulled out his phone and concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. He stared at his phone screen, hand hovering over Scott’s name. He quickly scrolled up and hit ‘Dad’ instead.

“Son, I'm bu-” his dad answered.

“Dad! Oh thank gods you picked up, I need your help! I…there’s a body… I’m on 98th close to Oak Street” Stiles rushed out over his dad’s voice. He was nervous, his mind racing with possibilities.

“What? Son, are you sure? Calm down. Okay tell me again, tell me what's going on.” The Sheriff replied with an air of forced calm gained from years on the force.

Stiles explained how he had gone hiking at the old camp grounds and found the body. He repeated his location. His father sent a local patrol car out their immediately. They arrived before he had even hung up. Stiles found himself repeating his day to the newly appointed officer, Deputy Parrish. He was a good looking young man, and was quick to notice the lack of blood on the ground and head wound. “Another one”, the deputy had muttered under his breath. He took Stiles’ official statement as they waited for his father to arrive, giving away no more information and refusing to answer his questions. Stiles’ father was not forthcoming with information either. He seemed equal parts worried and angry. But, aside from hearing Stiles’ story for a 5th time, he didn't have much to say in front of his son

“Why. Why did you have to be the one to find the body? At a crime scene, again!” The sheriff whisper-yelled at his son as soon as they headed to the Jeep. Stiles was oddly quiet. His father insisted on driving, an officer could bring his patrol car into the station.

Stiles was in a bit of shock and by the time he and his father had finally made it home, it was past midnight. He went to his room without dinner, or a word of goodnight to his stressed out dad, his mind spinning with the evening's events, and appetite long gone. His dad’s parting words were a request that he stay out of this one and let the professionals handle it.

Stiles dialed Scott's number for the 10th time that night as he stumbled into bed.

***

It was well past noon the following day, when Stiles woke to his bed vibrating. It took him a second to realize that his phone was ringing. He grabbed the device and saw that Scott was finally calling him back.

“Bro, finally, I've called you like five times! What was so urgent that you blew up my phone last night? I was at Allison’s!” Scott complained.

It took Stiles a good minute to process the events of last night. “Morning Scott,” he mumbled. He ran through the gist of the situation. He made sure to tell Scott his suspicions about this not being the first victim. “I'm not saying we should go out in the woods looking for more bodies, ‘cause, well you know how that turned out, but I think we should mention this to his holy alphaness. Have you apologized yet for totally using him?” Stiles finished up.

“What!? No! And, yes. Lydia found a body near the pool on the other side of town. It was really random. But, she called Jackson who called Derek, and Derek informed the pack but he didn't think it was anything related to us. I told Allison too, she said it's definitely not the Hunters MO. I kinda thought Lydia or your dad would have told you.” Scott stated.

Stiles tried to wrap his head around all the new tidbits of information he gleaned from that one statement. “Wait, you said the pack, so did you, like, accept Derek as your alpha?” He asked. “But, you didn't apologize! Dumbass! And why would Lydia tell me anything?” Stiles’ mind was spinning. “More importantly, when did she find the body? Two’s a coincidence…”

“Three days ago. Derek and I are cool, I guess. I go to his pack dinners and training, he even lets me bring Allison. It's only fair because Jackson brings Lydia.”

Stiles insides were cracking a bit at that, was he missing out on these gatherings? Had he not proved himself valuable? Trustworthy at least, since he helped free Boyd and Erica after the hunters dropped him off at the school? He went right back to his captors’ house and unlocked them. The trio then picked up Lydia and met at the warehouse. Well, he literally drove into it so Lydia could profess her love. After everything had calmed down, the betas sauntered up to Derek while Scott apologized to Allison (Why? He wasn't actually sure). But, Stiles was there. He was helpful. He knows it, so why would the pack meet without him? When he tuned back into the call, he realized he missed most of what Scott was saying. “…so, I'm glad I have you on the phone, because pack dinners are on Friday night, and I was going to see if we could do the movie on Sunday instead.” Scott trailed off.

“Oh!” Was all Stiles could manage. “Yeah, sure.” He wanted to ask if Derek noticed he wasn't there. If the injured betas had asked how he was doing. Why would Scott think Lydia was on such good talking terms with him. But the questions remained unasked as bile raised in his throat. His stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble, which gave Scott the opportunity to suggest he wake up and go eat lunch.

“Ah, Scott!” Stiles quickly interjected. “How are Erica and Boyd? They never came back to school. I haven't seen them since, you know…” Stiles trailed off thinking about that night.

“Oh, they’re good. They’re over a lot because of Isaac, the three of them are usually at Derek's if they aren't over here. Boyd has never played Mario Kart before, can you believe it!” Scott asked, obviously clueless to his best friends twinge of jealousy.

“What time, Scott? What time should I pick you up on Sunday? You know Saturday is the day after Friday, right?” Was all Stiles could manage. He was angry. He felt left out, it might be irrational. He wasn't sure. And he didn't have a clear idea on what he should do now. “Oh, and don't forget to tell Derek about the second body, just in case.”

“I have a double date with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson on Saturday. Sorry bud. How about 1-ish, we can maybe get matinee prices?” Scott asked. “And, it’s the 3rd body. My mom said there was a girl found a few days before Lydia’s discovery. Same cause of death. Strangled and head wound with the throat cut.” He added nonchalantly. “She was a little torn up about it, because she was our age. Mom came home demanding hugs from me and Isaac.”

“Oh gods Scott, who? Is it someone we go to school with?” Stiles asked, jealousy flaring a little at the mention of Isaac getting a hug over him from his pseudo mom.

“No, no, I asked, her name was Heather, she went to the prep school across town,” Scott replied. “I'll see you Sunday, I have to go, lunchtime, eat something.” Stiles could hear Isaac telling Scott to hurry.

“Later dude.” Stiles muttered into the already dead line. Heather, he knew a Heather. His mom’s best friend’s daughter was named Heather. She had been a staple presence in his toddler years. They had drifted apart after his mom’s death, but he still had her number. He gave it a call; it was disconnected. Surely his father would have told him if something had happened to his childhood friend, right?

***

After making himself a sandwich, Stiles decided to make one for his dad too. He could drop by the station and inquire on the bodies; ask about Heather.

It turned out the station was still understaffed and very busy. A reporter was waiting patiently for an interview with his father, but Stiles brushed past and entered the office without knocking. His father was less than pleased to see him.

“I've brought lunch!” Stiles held up the brown bag as a shield and proceeded to enter. His father’s desk had a lot of paperwork piled up on it, but the two take-out cartons from the local diner were easily visible.

“Although it seems you don't need it,” Stiles continued. “I hope that contained a salad, dad!”

“Stiles, go home! I don't want you poking into this thing. You’re too connected.” The sheriff started.

“Dad, Scott told me about a Heather, a Heather who is our age and went to the prep school. Dad, tell me it's not…” Stiles pleaded, his large eyes tearing up at the thought.

“Stiles, you need to leave!”

“Dad, was it…”

“Go home!”

“Dad!”

“Yes! Okay, yes it was, I asked her parents not to involve you because you have been too involved with the mysterious crime sprees over the past couple of months. You need to leave this alone.” His father replied looking dejected.

“What! Dad, no, it's Heather!” Stiles stammered. His father sighed and gave his son a much needed hug. The shock of contact felt electrifying. When was the last time someone had touched him? Hugged him? Stiles wasn't sure. “When…when is her funeral?” Stiles muttered into his father’s chest.

“Sunday.”

***

Stiles hung up after receiving Scott's voicemail for the fifth time that evening. He felt so alone. He just needed a friend. He decided a quick text to cancel on Sunday would do, and headed up to his room. His window was open. He definitely didn't leave it open, because it's summer, and the air is on. Everything looked to be in place, but the eerie feeling of being watched loomed over him, so he shut his window. He did a quick check on the rest of the house to make sure nothing was out of place, grabbed his father’s whiskey, packed up his Jeep with a sleeping bag and change of clothes, and decided to head back out to the campgrounds for the night. His dad wasn't going to be home anyways. He had enjoyed it out there yesterday, and he really just needed to clear his head and drown his sorrows.

It took him a little longer to get there, because he went the long way around, but Stiles made it before the sun set. You have to pay at a station to use the campsites, but seeing as Stiles didn't have a need for electricity, he opted to take one of the paths to fairly a secluded clearing. He turned his phone off and cracked open the bottle of Jack. His last coherent thought was how beautiful the stars looked out here.

***

Stiles woke to the sounds of birds chirping and a soft mewling from his right.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke up a bit dazed and a lot hung over. His clothes stuck to him because of the sweat from sleeping outside in the summer heat. The mewling sound that woke him seemed to grow more intense by the minute, until it was joined by the most adorable little yips, and even an attempt at a howl. It took several moments for Stiles to sit up properly. He removed his shirt and used it to wipe down his face. He quickly spotted the source of the commotion, and it was quite an adorable sight! 

Three sets of eyes were trained on him, looking expectant. The looks belonged to three soft and fluffy looking puppies. Out in the forest, in California. It was unusual, to say the least, but the truly strange and disturbing thing was the sight of their mother behind them. She was obviously a wolf, which, as Stiles knows, is not native to the area. She had a beautiful, gleaming, grey coat, and dark ears. It was apparent that her pups were still at the nursing stage, and her lack of cooperation to allow them to nurse was the cause of the commotion. She remained stock still, standing on all fours, facing away from Stiles. 

Taking a deep breath, and fighting back the nausea he associated with a hangover and not enough water, he carefully and quietly moved closer to the wolf pups to get a better look at their mother. Upon further investigation, she had a glistening red spiral painted on her hind quarters. It looked disturbingly like blood. Stiles turned on his phone to snap a photo of the odd choice of vandalism. The female wolf still hadn't reacted to the commotion of her pups, or the camera app’s shutter, or Stiles’ uncoordinated stumble as he crept closer. She hadn't even blinked, and didn't appear to be breathing. It was the strangest thing. Stiles moved closer still, and nothing. He reached out to touch her, to feel for a pulse. 

Just as Stiles hand was about to touch the female wolf’s coarse fur, her head snapped around to stare him straight in the eyes. She growled, showing off her canines, which looked as if she had made a recent kill. Blood dripped from her snout, as she eyed Stiles who was now paralyzed from fear. His hand was dangerously close to that vicious set of teeth. She continued to look Stiles in the eye. For a full minute, no one moved. Even the puppies seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, for they had succumbed to silence. Then, without warning, the mother wolf bolted past Stiles, and ran head first into a nearby tree. She twitched once after impact, before falling still. She was dead.

Stiles was flabbergasted. He still hadn't moved. He didn't have any clue what that could have been about. What would cause such strange behavior? One of the little puppies pawed at his shoe, gaining his attention. Without thought, Stiles dropped to the forest floor, and started to pet the little thing. He was a boy, the smallest of his siblings and the darkest shade of grey, almost completely black on the face and paws, with a lighter underbelly. The other two puppies looked on with curiosity. One had sandy colored fur, a crazy blend of red, tan, grey, and white. He was also male, just slightly larger than the runt currently cradled in Stiles's lap. Despite their young age, the sandy furred pup examined Stiles with a critical gaze. He must have deemed Stiles worthy, because he sauntered up and nuzzled his knee until Stiles started to pet him too. He preened at the touch. 

The last of the puppies was the largest, but not by much, and had the lightest color fur. She was mostly grey with solid white socks and belly, her snout and the area around her eyes were the darkest shade of grey on her body and even then, lighter than the other two. She looked at the heap that was her mother with her ears back. Without warning she howled. Louder and more steady than any of the previous howls that morning. Both of her brothers attempted to join in. It was a sad sight. The female chose to lay on Stiles's abandoned shirt rather then cozy up to the man himself. She looked at her brothers’ antics with fondness as she curled up in the shirt. 

Unbeknownst to Stiles, tears flowed from his eyes. The little black puppy licked his face to chase one. 

***

It took some time for Stiles to regain his composure. His phone told him that it was early morning, 7am. And he had no missed calls. Not only was he severely hungover and dehydrated, but he now had 3 hungry wolf pups to think about too. The internet was moving slowly on his phone in such a remote location, but with some research he learned that it is illegal to remove wolves from their natural habitat. And, he also learned that this forest is not the natural habitat of these particular wolves. They belonged further north, perhaps in Yosemite. So, after some self debate and a difficult investigation of the mother wolf to confirm her strange death and behavior, he decided he would have to feed the little guys himself. A selfish part of him enjoyed the thought of taking care of the young pups. They hadn't left his side all morning, and Stiles couldn't help but feel a sense of love, loyalty, and belonging. A part of himself knew that he needed the little guys just as much as they needed him at the moment. 

Regretting not bringing a water bottle with him the newly formed pack of four made their way back to the Jeep. Stiles had a shopping list of items he would need to provide proper care for his pups. He could do this! His first stop was a drive through, so he could get some breakfast without leaving the car. The woman working the eatery window thought the ‘Husky’ puppies were just so cute and gave Stiles a carton of milk for free to feed them. It wasn't what Google recommended, but the little yippers seemed to enjoy making a mess in his front seat.

While watching the female beat out her brothers for a chance at first sip (she was definitely the alpha), Stiles decided the little guys needed names. He instantly decided the little sandy haired guy would be Remus, because obviously, all hail JK. As much as he wanted to call the little black runt Sourwolf -if it wasn't for the fact that you’re not supposed to have a favorite child, that little guy would be his fave wolf, hands down- he decided to name him Brin after the D.C. Comic book character, Timber Wolf. It didn't take long to decide on the girl’s name either. He was an avid GOT fan, and she did have that Dire Wolf attitude, so he called her Nymeria. The pups ignored him as he told them their new names, in favor of splashing milk all over the front seat. 

Brin spent the drive back to town sleeping on Stiles's lap. 

***

It was obvious, upon walking into his room, that someone had looked through his belongings. His papers were less neat. But, nothing important was missing or out of order, so Stiles assumed his dad’s growing suspicion of him had gotten the better of the Sheriff. His research was so random that he doubted his old man was able to glean anything important from his invasion of privacy. And it's not like Stiles was home to stop him, despite not telling his father where he was going. Stiles supposed it served him right.

The tired pups were quick to claim Stiles bed as their den. Nymeria went so far as to pull his pillow to the center of the bed. She had refused to give Stiles his shirt back earlier, so the dirty saliva soaked plaid monstrosity and her tail was all you can see from the slumbering pile of puppies. Stiles took advantage of the quiet moment to take a much needed shower. 

***

The next three days passed much the same way. Scott agreed to reschedule their movie plans, but never texted back with a date or time. Stiles took his puppies to Petsmart, claiming they were Husky mixes. He ended up spending a small fortune on all of their necessities. He also scheduled an appointment with Dr. Deaton for the following week, even though he was sure the doctor wouldn't be fooled into buying the Husky story. 

He took them for long walks in the preserve as well as the campgrounds, avoiding the clearing he met them in just in case. Stiles was becoming more sure-footed, running along in the forest, and took the occasional opportunity to work on those pitiful pull ups when a sturdy enough tree branch hung close by. Remus was the most timid of the bunch, and would stay close to Stiles' side. Brin wanted to explore everything, and would take his time sniffing trees and wildlife. Nymeria kept her eyes and ears sharp, the first to react to any sound. Stiles loved them, and despite writing down the number for the local wildlife shelter, he knew he wasn't going to call it.

It was easier than he thought to keep his litter a secret from his father. They seemed to listen to Stiles when he told them to stay quiet. He appreciated their aptitude for picking up on the situation. Plus, his father’s work load had only increased with the recent victims. Apparently, local wildlife was acting strangely too. The sheriff seemed to feel this was a safe place to steer their conversation, because he chose not to answer his son’s query about how the investigation for Heather’s murder is going. Stiles could certainly agree that something strange was going on, but his plate was full with playing puppy mom, so he had less to say on the subject than usual. This seemed to only make his father more suspicious and their first meal together that week ended in relative silence, following Stiles’ short answers. His father failed to comment on the missing whiskey bottle, despite the replacement he brought home. 

***

Sunday crept up on Stiles fairly quickly. He explained to his pups that he would have to leave them at home today, because he couldn't bring them to Heather’s funeral. The affair was difficult for Stiles, who sat by himself towards the back. At the end he greeted her parents to pay his respects and they seemed shocked by his attendance. He guessed his father had asked them to keep their distance from Stiles, because of the investigation, too. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, and he didn't care for the look of distrust on her mother’s face. Afterwards, Stiles visited his mother's grave and silently cried. He needed to let it out.

***

That evening, Stiles decided he would spend the night at the campgrounds again, just looking to get away from it all. He packed up the Jeep with better provisions and his pups. Nymeria insisted on bringing her favorite plaid shirt for the drive. Stiles talked a lot about his mom and Heather to the pups. He shared stories, and oddly enough they seemed to listen to his every word. It was cathartic. He talked, they listened, and the night’s moon shined bright enough to keep their clearing fully lit. Which was a requirement, because his last night out here ended with a snarly animal only two yards away from him. He hugged Remus and Brin closer while Nymeria stood guard behind him, his shirt clamped tight in her mouth. 

***

When he turned on his phone the following morning he had a missed call from an unknown number. Derek Hale, himself, had left him a voicemail! “Stiles! Call me.” As eloquent as ever. Chuckling to himself he felt his spirits lift significantly at the sound and quickly called the alpha. 

“Stiles.” Derek answered.

“Morning, dude.” Stiles replied. “What has you calling me so early?”

“What. I called you last night, you weren't home.” He said.

“Yeah, sorry I was out. How's your little leather clad pack doing? I haven’t seen anyone for weeks now. Hope all is well, is Isaac officially a McCall now? Did Lydia recover from finding the dead body okay? How…”

“Stiles!” Derek interrupted. “Ask them yourself, later, meet me at my place today.” He demanded more than inquired.

“Yeah, sure thing, give me at least-” Derek hung up. “An hour to make it back to town,” Stiles finished his reply to no one.

“Well, come on, puppies, it’s time you meet the real alpha of Beacon Hills, but it's totally okay if you want to bite him. Seriously, nip him right the ass for me!” He smiled to himself at the thought. And decided a few minutes to brush his teeth in the park’s restroom was worth the delay. Stiles tried to do something with his hair and a little water, it was getting longer since he skipped his usual buzz cut last month. The hair refused to cooperate and gave him a just rolled out of bed look. He quickly changed, his new shirt was frustratedly wrinkly from his hasty packing job the night before. 

Stiles wasn't actually sure where to go, so he decided to try the train depot first, as it was closer from this direction. It looked long abandoned and was eerily quiet. He supposed the pups would prefer the yard at Derek’s old home anyways, and they headed out that way.  
Driving the dirt road brought back memories of the night Peter was killed. Stiles thought of Kate getting her throat torn out. He thought of Gerard and his fist. He thought of the mechanic being crushed to death in front of his eyes. 

The burnt out house was quiet too. But Stiles let his pack run free while he called out for Derek. If he was around he would surely hear him. The house looked much the same, though, for some strange reason, the front door had a new coat of paint. 

Stiles decided he would wait on the porch steps for a bit, give the alpha a chance to show up. He called the unknown number from earlier today, to no avail. He left a voicemail telling Derek that he is at his old home and visited the train depot and couldn't find him. He joked about the alpha moving without leaving a forwarding address. But the truth was, he had moved without telling Stiles. His pack knew where he lived, obviously, for pack nights, but Stiles wasn't pack, and wasn’t invited. It felt alienating to realize how left out of the loop he was. A sinking feeling settled inside him at the thought. 

***

About a half an hour later, Stiles received a text from a different unknown number with an address and no explanation. Well, should he go? He considered blowing them off. But, Stiles’ loyalty won out, and he headed back across town to the industrial area. 

The building was old and run-down-looking from the outside. Stiles noticed a theme after visiting Derek’s haunts back to back. He let the uninvited wolves out of the Jeep and they followed him up the stairs. Stiles raised a hand to knock as the door rolled open. It turns out Derek's new place was a loft. It's spacious, with a huge window and very little furniture. It seemed to fit the alpha’s personality. Uninviting. Stiles took a moment to appreciate the brick and hardwood before entering.

“What the hell!” Derek's voice broke the silence. Nymeria stood protectively in front of Stiles with her hackles raised. Brin and Remus flanked her sides. They all stared venomously at Derek, who oddly enough was flanked by Boyd and Erica in turn.

“Ahhh, hey! So…” Stiles made his way inside the loft.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell!” Derek's voice broke the silence. Nymeria stood protectively in front of Stiles with her hackles raised. Brin and Remus flanked her sides. They all stared venomously at Derek, who, oddly enough, was flanked by Boyd and Erica in turn.

  
“Ahhh, hey! So…” Stiles made his way inside the loft. “These are my new puppies, they’re a Husky mix. I think.” Nymeria did her best to bark, but the yip drew attention to how little the frisky pups truly were. “I’ve been training them to attack on demand, better be careful! Their bite is bigger than it looks, that small fry there,” he pointed to Brin, “he's a natural, goes right for the balls…”

  
“Stiles!” Derek snapped. His red eyes were fixed on Nymeria’s. It was a strange battle for dominance. It's like he forgot he was a 200 pound, built, alpha werewolf, and felt the need to make the 15 pound pup submit. “Those are wolves!”

  
“Nehhh, they’re babies, and a mix, so who knows really,” Stiles started to defend.

  
“Stiles! Those are wolf pups.” Derek repeated. He wore a dark Henley, and fitted jeans. His muscles bulged a bit with his arms crossed.

  
“Ummmm, no?!” Stiles tried to defend his puppy pack again. He knelt down and stroked Remus and Nymeria’s backs.

  
“Stiles.” It’s amazing really, the different ways Derek can use his name as a complete sentence. “I can hear your heartbeat, lies.”

  
“They are so cute Derek!” Erica chimed in. She was dressed in her usual tight leather and blond curls. “Can I have one too?”

  
“Listen, these are my pups, okay! Mine!” Stiles gave Derek a hard look, “Even if they are wolves.”

  
Derek didn’t even flinch, “okay.”

  
“Seriously, look at them!” Erica squealed, she had a comfortable hand on Derek's back. He seemed more than okay with the close proximity of his betas on either side. Boyd broke into a smile first, knelt down and asked for permission to pet them.

  
“Pups,” Stiles addressed them. “These are friends, sort of. No need to attack.” The puppies ears went back submissively and Brin’s tail began to wag. He cautiously approached Boyd, who scratched behind his ears. Nymeria’s head remained held high and alert. Remus looked back at Stiles, almost asking for permission before joining his brother. Stiles nodded. And the tension eased as Remus loped over and Erica joined Boyd in the ear scratching.

  
“What do you mean, sort of?” Erica questioned. She held her hand out for the wolves to sniff.

  
“Well, I meant we’re kinda friends, would you prefer I used the word acquaintances?” Stiles asked with a frown. He made his way further inside, followed closely by Nymeria and sat on the floor, they resumed an on-going game of tug of war with Nymeria’s plaid shirt. “You should invest in furniture, Derek.”

  
“Stiles, we’re totally friends!” Erica defended, “why wouldn't you think that?”

  
“Okay.” Stiles responded, but it seemed halfhearted at best. “So, when did you move?” Stiles asked to lighten the mood, some.

  
“Derek's been here for almost 2 months now.” Erica answered, nonchalantly. The sinking feeling in Stiles gut got deeper. 2 months, that was right before the end of the kanima. Derek had plenty of chances to mention this to Stiles, but he hadn’t. It's not even that recent of a development. He could just picture the whole pack hanging out in the open space. Sharing a pizza while looking over the streets from the balcony. Stiles schooled his face, knowing that the werewolves could probably smell his despair.

  
“Well, when did you become a wolf mommy? Where did these little guys come from?” Erica questioned to change the subject. And Stiles launched into a shortened explanation. He left out some of the details like his overwhelming sense of loneliness that sent him to the woods to begin with and he still wasn't sure what the spiral meant, and if it was a risky bit of info to share.

  
Turns out the strange animal behavior is the reason why the alpha invited him over. Apparently, a flock of birds crashed head-first into a crowded coffee shop earlier this week. And, a deer ran into the Argents car head on, the week prior. Everyone was okay, thankfully. Stiles asked if the animals had any strange markings, but Derek wasn't sure. He was positive the deer smelt normal. But, he was unable to check out the bird incident, aside from talking to a woman who was there. He was actually hoping Stiles could use his father’s insider information to see the report on the birds.

  
Stiles highly doubted he would be helpful on that front, and shared the sheriff’s growing lack of trust of his only son. He shared what little he knew about what forces of nature can influence animal behaviors. Druids are very attuned to nature. So, the alpha decided the next best course of action would be to talk to Deaton. Stiles found it strange he came to him first over the ex-emissary.

  
While they caught up on the supernatural excitement of Beacon Hills, Derek found himself hogging Brin’s attention. The smallest of the litter snuggled up to the werewolf, completely forgetting his need to stand guard over Stiles. The pup fell asleep. Nymeria was less than pleased. Stiles agreed and kept his guard up around the weres too.

  
***

  
It was a little while later that the loft door slid open. Stiles supposed you don't have to worry about intruders when you’re a werewolf and your apartment is scarcely furnished. In walked Scott and Isaac. They were discussing a movie, a marvel movie, that Stiles has yet to see. But the most shockingly disturbing part of their entrance is the tattoo on Scott’s left arm.

  
The two froze at the site of Stiles sprawled out on the loft floor. Scott's face broke into a lopsided grin. With his arms outstretched he went to join his so called best friend, but as he approached, Nymeria jumped at the chance to defend her Stiles from the new comer and sunk her teeth into Scott's right calf. Chaos commenced. A howl of pain, a roar, a yip, and a ‘shhhhh, it's okay’ were heard simultaneously.

  
Scott was already healing but his yellow eyes blazed as he stared down at Nymeria, who refused to back up, and held her ground between him and Stiles. Isaac oddly enough was the were that roared. He was also partially shifted as he glared at Nymeria from Scott's right. Remus continued to yip as he joined his sister, but the little chicken gave his sister the obvious advantage with a least a 2 foot further distance from the ‘enemy’. Stiles was actually a little shocked and proud. And, believe it or not, but the mighty alpha was the one consoling little Brin in his lap, shushing him back to sleep. The dark wolf’s pink tongue poked out if its muzzle as his eyes drooped once again. No one moved for a solid minute.  
Stiles broke the stand-off by scooting closer to Nymeria. He scooped up Remus in the process. He consoled his pack of puppies, telling them they did good and how proud he was of their bravery. Scott and Isaac examined Scott’s leg. Erica volunteered to get the 1st aid kit, but Scott assured her it wasn't necessary.

  
Isaac broke the silence first, “Those monsters need to be put down!”

  
“What!? No!” Stiles quickly defended.

  
“They’re kinda cute, even with the sharp teeth.” Scott said, “what kind of dog are they Stiles? Are they yours? When did you..?” He trailed off thinking back to his recent conversation with Stiles.

  
“They’re a Husky mix,” Stiles attempted the lie again. “I had them a little less than a week. They lost their mother.” Stiles didn't need to say more. Understanding and acceptance was plain on Scott's face.

  
“Well, what are their names?” Scott asked as he sat down, giving Nymeria a wide berth. Isaac continued to glare, but the two agreed with Stiles’s choices of names.

  
Not that it needed to be said, but Derek declared that no one would be put down. Scott and Isaac were very in sync with one another. Isaac explained how he had to hold Scott down for his tattoo, which is apparently 3 weeks old as he got it as soon as school let out. Scott frowned at the thought that he hasn't seen Stiles since then. He didn't realize it had been so long.

  
To veer the conversation away from how Allison’s new haircut compliments her face (Stiles growing lack of patients was visible), Derek decided to ask Scott about the movie him and Isaac had just seen. That was definitely the wrong move. Isaac launched into a conversation about all the action, but Scott turned his puppy dog eyes on Stiles whose anger was almost palpable in the air.

  
“You went to see the movie you cancelled on me with, with Isaac!” Stiles accused.  
“You cancelled too!” Scott protested.

  
“I had a funeral to attend! By myself, thank you, because you never answered the phone when I was calling to see if you would come with, for moral support!”  
“A funeral? Who's?” Scott asked, voice small.

  
Erica, Boyd and Isaac attempted to give the two space and retreated to the kitchen. It was obvious that they had a lot to catch up on, but the thought was short lived. Stiles stood and called his puppies to join him. Stiles reached for Brin who was still sleeping in Derek's arms. “I'll work on researching the connection between nature and druidic influence and get back to you. Is the number you called me on yours?” He asked.

  
Derek seemed reluctant to give Brin over. “Yes, you…you didn't have my number?” He seemed confused and a little sadden at the thought. “Boyd texted…address.” He added helpfully.

  
“Thanks.” Stiles smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “I'll let you know what I find out, look over any future animals for weird markings, okay.”

  
Stiles went to leave when Scott piped up, “weird markings, like the spiral on the deer in my backyard?” He looked to Derek for confirmation.

  
“No, Scott,” Derek sighed, “ That's unrelated.” Stiles paused at the new information and considered staying around to ask more, but decided against it. He turned to leave.

  
Stiles passed Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Allison in the stairwell. Allison’s shorter hair did compliment her face. Danny! Danny knew where Derek lived, he was probably in on the whole wolfy business, too. Jackson could probably sense Stiles discomfort. There was an awkward pause in which no one said anything.

  
“Hey, Stiles!” Danny greeted with a friendly smile. Does he flash that smile at Derek too?

  
“Enjoy your pack meeting!” Stiles bit out as he pushed past. The girls looked longingly at the puppies who were ready to continue their descent. Danny looked confused by the statement or aggression, or both, Stiles wasn't sure and he wasn't going to find out.  
Lydia held back a second as the other three continued to climb the stairs.

  
“Stiles,” she started, “I wanted to… I’ve wanted to… to thank you for, you know, helping me help Jackson.” Wow. Stiles didn't know what to say. A thank you! When was the last time he heard such a thing?

  
“Ummm do you have my number?” She asked.

  
He did, of course he did. She was Lydia Martin. He has had her number from the moment she showed off her lime green Nokia that could play Snakes back in grade school. Stiles simply nodded. It was unusual for him to be rendered speechless.

  
“Well, I'd like to pick your brain about the whole wolf thing sometime. Why didn't the venom paralyze me? Scott seemed to think you might be good at the whole figuring out why part.” She looked at the puppy asleep in his arms, “I can bring Prada and we can have a puppy play date, maybe.” Her perfectly straight strawberry blond locks draped over her face as she leaned in to pet the little guy. His mini defenders seemed okay with the interaction.

  
“Yeah, sure.” Stiles managed. The thought of Lydia using the word date when referring to himself through Stiles for a loop. But, not in the way he expected. He didn't feel grateful for the opportunity or excited at the prospect. And, that lack of emotion puzzled him.

  
Lydia waved good bye. Nymeria barked to get Stiles attention. It was a solid, strong bark. He praised her as the wolves jumped into the passenger side of the Jeep.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite the invitation to text both Derek and Lydia, Stiles found himself keeping much to the same routine. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to them, it just hurt to see how close everyone else was becoming. He was afraid to hear more tales of bonding that excluded him. 

His ‘Huskies’ became regulars at the local Petsmart. They certainly had a growing appetite. Stiles found himself dipping further and further into his savings. It was only a matter of time before his father found out. He expected one of the nice old ladies of the town to inquire about his new dogs. He anticipated the angry phone call at any moment, but it had yet to come. Stiles was even so bold as to bring his puppies to their local diner while picking up carryout. The girls had gushed over their fluffy tails and soft fur. The diner owner, Sam, was impressed with how well trained they were and invited them inside anytime! Imagine three grown wolves in the little diner!

The pups enjoyed their walks in the woods. They would climb and explore and venture off further and further. The weather seemed to agree with Stiles’s schedule because it was always a beautiful day with just enough breeze to stifle the summer heat. Stiles found himself running along with the wolves more often than not and was even getting the hang of the pull-ups. He stumbled less, to his clothes’ relief. 

In between his adventures, Stiles studied the ways of the Druids. He learned about how they keep the balance in nature and how some interpret that as their role to keep the balance in the supernatural world too. When that balance is off, nature can be the first to show signs. While this made sense with some aspects of the town’s mysteries. Nothing he read mentioned the spiral. It's like he was missing some crucial information. He couldn’t finish the puzzle without all the pieces. And, despite what Derek and his dad thought, Stiles was sure the murders were connected somehow. It just didn't add up. And, speaking of the murders, Stiles was certain there was more going on that his dad wasn't sharing.

The two had reached an all time low on the speaking front. His dad had even mentioned going to the McCalls for dinner on some of his evenings off. He rarely brought case files home and had started locking the downstairs office door. He reminded his son of his recent restraining order from the Whittemores on multiple occasions and stressed that he not attend any further crime scenes, unless he'd like to share his secrets. While this lecture took place, his current biggest secret laid upstairs in an adorable puppy pile. 

***

To save on gas, and to give the puppies a slight challenge, Stiles decided to walk them through the preserve to get to Dr. Deaton’s clinic. The trip took over an hour. There were a lot of new trees for the wolves to mark. Stiles sniggered to himself at the thought of Derek’s betas patrolling this area later. 

As expected, Dr. Deaton was not fooled for an instant into thinking the wolves were anything less. On the contrary, he commented on how well they looked and aged them at approximately two months old. The wolves initially growled at the vet and refused to stand on the metal table. Stiles was able to smooth the situation over quickly. Deaton seemed impressed with how well they listened to Stiles, but he didn't act surprised at all. Stiles explained how he has been feeding them minced meat in addition to the store bought puppy chow. Deaton told him he should continue this and gradually introduce more and more venison into their diets. It sounded expensive. He explained that they would naturally start hunting small game in about 4 more months or so, and that Stiles would have some options to consider at that time. For the wolves to continue to develop properly, they would require more land than his backyard. In the meantime he cautioned Stiles about socializing the wolves with so many different people. While wolves are naturally social in their own community, it would be unwise for them to become too trustful of strangers. This left a bitter taste in Stiles's mouth. It sounded like his wolves would be reintroduced in the wild eventually. That thought had yet to cross Stiles’s mind. It was bittersweet to consider, leaning heavily towards the bitter end. 

All in all, Deaton maintained his mysterious ways when Stiles questioned him about the possibility that a Druid caused the nature phenomenons. He did agree that it's certainly possible if the balance was thrown off, whatever that may mean. But it got Stiles thinking, perhaps too many murders could help to throw that balance ‘off’. There just had to be a connection. Which brought up a point he had almost forgotten about. He dug out his phone and after scrolling through over a hundred photos of his pups he found the photo of the red spiral on the wolves mother. Deaton took the phone from Stiles.

“This is their mother?” Deaton asked.

“Yeah, I guess I didn't explain that part fully. She was kind of just standing there. And that was painted on her.” Stiles informed him.

“Interesting. And, what does Scott or Derek have to say about this particular fact?” He inquired.

“I didn't really get a chance to tell them. We've barely been speaking lately. You know with Isaac moving in and…” What could Stiles say? There really wasn't a valid excuse for the growing distance between him and Scott. 

“And, Derek?” Deaton asked, “ I would think he would find the fact that you were marked by the revenge symbol intriguing.” 

“Revenge symbol? The wolf was marked, not me. What does it mean?” Stiles's mind was racing with the new insight. 

“It is remarkable that the den mother was able to find you, and highly unlikely to be a coincidence.”

“What does that mean?” Stiles repeated.

“Perhaps you should show that symbol to your alpha.” The vet stated unhelpfully. 

“Could… is this all happening because a druid is looking for revenge? A revenge because of the murders perhaps? Oh gods! They can't possibly think I'm involved in murdering people too! I know my dad distrusts me at the moment. It's not without reason, I am keeping a lot from him.” Stiles gestures to the sleeping canines on the metal table. “But, seriously, why would I be ‘marked’… wait Scott! He had a deer with a spiral, right? Is he okay!” Stiles started to panic.

“Yeah buddy, I'm good.” Scott called as he walked into the examination room. “Just clocked in.” He stated to Deaton. “So, the spiral on the deer, did you get one too?” He asked as he moved closer to the sleeping dogs. He lifted an eyebrow towards Stiles, asking for permission to pet Remus. Stiles nodded. 

“So, you heard all that?” Stiles asked, his mind still processing. “No, I didn't get a deer carcass, the wolves’ mother, she, ummm she had it on her fur. Prior to her… violent death.”  
“Hey doctor, I'm here today too, do you mind if I ahh, if I sit with the the dog with cancer again?” Issac piped up from the doorway. Of course he came to the clinic just to take pain from a dying dog. Isaac eyed the sleeping wolves with apprehension. “Thought I smelled you. Even though your Jeep is not in the lot.” He added with a wrinkled nose and nod in Stiles’s direction. “ You're starting to smell like a wolf, you know.”

Stiles held back the urge to flip him off. They were still in the company of the vet, after all.  
“Did anyone else receive a spiral?” He asked Scott instead, choosing to ignore Isaac's goading. 

Isaac piped up from the other room. “Derek's door, remember.”

“Derek's door had a different symbol on it and he painted over it right away. It delayed our training session, but that was at least a month ago now, the deer came after. He was really mad, that day. Broke Erica’s arm again.” Scott added as an afterthought. 

“Derek must know then, what it meant if his reaction was anger and not confusion. Do you remember what it looked like? Can you draw it? Why didn't he bring this up the other day? Is he keeping it from me on purpose, he didn't tell me about your deer either and we were discussing the strange animal occurrences. Something is up…” Stiles would have continued his rant if it wasn't for Scott’s interruption. 

“I don't remember, it was different, more straight lines and less spirally. I don't think the two are related; the animals and the symbols. He has been teaching us, wolf stuff. Werewolves can be symbolic. The tattoo on Derek's back. That was for his family, the Hale pack.” Scott explained. “I think he knows and probably didn't want to tell us yet, because he is a selfish bastard sometimes.” He muttered as Deaton left the room for his next patient. 

That seemed like a very personal piece of information for the alpha to share with his betas. Stiles envied the wolves for their closeness, before he questioned, “and your tat? Any particular meaning behind those solid lines?” 

“Just felt right.” Scott grinned. He missed the flickering of emotion across his friend’s face.  
Stiles had a lot of new and unexpected information. Why couldn't the vet just be forthcoming. It didn't appear like this was even a secret. It's not like Stiles is pack, how would he know about the symbols? It seems like Derek is trying to keep the symbolism away from him, probably because he isn't a wolf. And that still begs the question, why would he receive a revenge symbol? Either way it was time to leave. Scott was on the clock after all.

Stiles woke the pups and went to go pay his tab at the office window. Even with the friends and family discount, the amount was exuberant. At the very least, he should be leaving with more answers than questions for that price. Brin was asleep in his arms before he even left the building. Nymeria yawned dramatically. Well if the wolves were too tired for the walk home, and Stiles was going to need a ride, he figured he should call Lydia. She did want a puppy play date, after all. 

***

Lydia pulled up to the clinic in her silver sedan; shades on, lips glossed, and Prada barking from the front seat. She quickly calmed down with one glare from Nymeria who, in her alpha female ways, demanded the front seat window side, forcing Prada to scoot over. Remus wanted to join the ladies and jumped upfront too but missed the mark, landing in the floor mat instead. He whined and pawed to be let up on the seat but both of the girl dogs held their heads high as if they couldn't see him. Lydia reached over to pet Nymeria and Prada fondly. “I think they are best friends.” She declared. Brin seemed content on Stiles lap in the back. 

The duo (or sextet, including the canines) made their way to the only dog friendly public park in Beacon Hills. It happened to be in a nice neighborhood, where both Lydia and Allison lived, so it wasn't surprising when the the youngest hunter made her way to the park. But what was surprising was the book she carried with her. The Argent bestiary. Lydia was a master at getting her way, you would assume she planned this from the moment Stiles left his Jeep at home today. The wolves sensed the danger from the huntress and immediately stood guard over Stiles and Lydia. Stiles announced the all clear and his pack went back to sniffing and frolicking with the other dogs.

Lydia quickly cut the small talk and friendly hellos, “Okay Stilinski! It took you like an hour to discover that Scott was a werewolf. You know I'm immune to the venom and the bite. I’m something!” She declared.

“You are something.” Stiles agreed.

The three talked about a lot. Stiles learned that the body count was now up to 5. His father was doing a remarkable job keeping him away from the investigation for him to be so out of the loop on that one. Stiles guessed Danny’s friend Kyle was killed in a similar fashion as the others. He recently graduated and was heading off to boot camp, but never reported for duty. They found him in his car just outside of town. The other victim was also somewhat familiar. The Beacon Hills High music teacher was found in his home after his neighbors growing suspicions about the quietness of his usually rambunctious abode. The ladies didn't know much on the incident, just that Chris, Allison’s dad, was brought in as a weapons expert. All five were killed the same way. Over-killed might be a better term for it. They were strangled with a garrote, throats sliced, and heads bashed in. Allison said the knife wound seems to be consistent, but the object used for blunt trauma to the head had varied. Lydia recalled her experience of finding the 2nd dead body. A lifeguard. She thought she was following directions in her navigation system. It turns out the navigation wasn't even turned on. This screamed supernatural in Stiles’s opinion. And while it could be a clue into the mysterious murders. He felt it was more likely to do with what Lydia was, because she was right, she is something. While this information is alarming and insightful. It doesn't really help make a connection between the victims. There has to be a connection. A reason. If not, then maybe it is just a serial killer without a motive. Nothing to do with the animal behavior as everyone else seems to think. Stiles owes it to Heather to find out the truth. 

Lydia and Allison were not aware that Stiles knew Heather so personally. It was nice being able to open up and share his memories of her with them. The three chatted well into the sunset. Stiles volunteered to walk home. It would give the puppies a chance to tire themselves out again and it would give himself some time to think and plan prior to his inevitable, all night Google-a-thon.

Stiles made it three blocks before he came across the need to call his dad again. But, he had his puppies with him, it only took a moment of debating his options for the police cruisers lights to flash as he was told to freeze.


	5. Chapter 5

And, freeze he did, but not before commanding his wolves to go home. Perhaps it was the bright headlights that scared them or perhaps it was Stiles’ rare use of such a demanding tone, but his little guys listened and took off behind a neighboring house and into the forest beyond. Stiles watched them disappear in the shadows of the trees with trepidation. It was risky. Stiles never even bought collars for them. They were so well behaved on walks, a leash wasn't necessary. Would they make it to the Stilinski backyard without issue? In Beacon Hills, nothing was guaranteed.

Stiles held his breath with his hands raised, awaiting further instructions from the officer. He knew he looked guilty. He knew he would have to cooperate, and above all, he knew his father would be so disappointed in him. But, on the bright side, he froze while facing the backyard where his wolves recently disappeared, which meant he didn't have to look at the body tied to a tree with a garrote a few yards ahead of him. A body Stiles was pretty sure belonged to his chemistry teacher from last year, Mr. Harris. 

The officer stepped out of the car. It turned out to be the new deputy, Parrish. Stiles was fairly unfamiliar with him, but hoped that would play in his favor, since most of his father’s staff knew him as a quick witted comedian with a flare for the dramatics when trying to mastermind his way out of trouble. 

“State your name, and don't move as I approach. What did I see running away from you just now?” Parrish questioned. “Wait. Stiles?” Deputy Parrish lowered his flashlight, to prevent blinding his suspect. Stiles gulped.

“I know what this looks like, but I swear, I was just walking home.” Stiles managed to say. He avoided answering the question about his wolves. One viable excuse at a time. “Look, it's probably best to radio my dad. He- ummm, he might prefer a private line though.” 

“Do you know this man?” Parrish questioned. It was obvious he was struggling to keep his composure. Having to focus on his job while interrogating a kid, his boss’s kid, must be difficult. His boss's only son who was at the scene of a murder, again. 

“I do. His name is Mr. Harris.” Stiles replied, voice shaky. “My dad, he is not going to be happy. I think you should call him, now.”

“Okay, I will. But, this is a serious situation here, Stiles. Do you mind if I call you that? Perhaps there is someone else who can corroborate your story? What ran into the forest? It seemed too small to be another person.” Parrish busied himself with his radio, calling in several codes. 

Stiles wasn't paying attention. He still held his hands up like a criminal. “May I sit down? I…I don’t feel so good.” He asked. His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. Stiles didn't wait for a reply and slammed down harder than he intended on the sidewalk curb. How does trouble always manage to find him? 

*** 

Strangely enough, his dad wasn't the next person to arrive. Lydia came down the street in her car, rolling at a snail’s pace. Prada was yapping away happily in the front seat. She had a vague, distant, look on her face and slowed to a stop behind the patrol car. She stepped out, took one look at Mr. Harris and let out an ear shattering scream. Prada disappeared from the window, presumably hiding under the seat. 

Parrish was naturally confused by the newcomer. He also seemed a little taken aback, stopping in his explanation to Stiles's father. He lost his train of thought. 

“Parrish. Parrish, are you there? Listen, don't let Stiles talk his way out of this. Don't let him leave. I'm on my way, be there in 10.” The sheriff’s voice could be heard from the radio. 

Lydia’s scream must have woken her out of her trance. She looked at Stiles and started to cry. “I…I don’t know… how did I?” She joined him on the sidewalk. “I just dropped Allison off at her house and was going to head home, but I ended up here instead.” She whispered as she laid her head on Stiles’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, Lyds, I'm not sure either. I was just walking home.” He replied. He gestured to the scene around them. “I think this had just become our lives now, you know. We’re really lucky we're not a part of the body count…yet.” He added as an afterthought. “I mean the murderer must have been so close to us at the dog park.”

Parrish overheard their conversation and moved his line of investigation towards building Stiles an alibi, with Lydia to confirm his whereabouts. Lydia was quick to pick up on Parrish’s questions and tactics, and confirmed that Stiles’s dogs must have run off into the woods, spooked by the police lights. Stiles bit his tongue to stop himself from defending the bravery of his wolves. Of course, his father arrived at that moment and was quick to establish that they most certainly do not have a dog, let alone three. Lydia shook her head at Stiles from behind the Sheriff's back. 

Two other officers quickly arrived and started the photography and breakdown of the scene to deduce what happened. Parrish eagerly volunteered to escort Lydia home and then planned on stopping by Allison’s house to get her statement to help corroborate their story. 

To say Sheriff Stilinski was mad would be an understatement. He barely spoke to anyone. He couldn't look Stiles in the eye. His only sentence towards his son was a quiet, “you’re unbelievably fortunate that Parrish was able to piece together a solid alibi for you, or you would be in the back of my cruiser on the way to be fingerprinted!” Stiles rode home in the backseat regardless. It started to sprinkle, and he watched the rain roll down the windows of the doors he was unable to open from his side feeling like he was missing the metaphor.

***

“I’ve had enough, this ends now.” The sheriff raised his voice to further illustrate his point. “We can’t go on like this. The lies are out of control. Do you understand what this looks like for me? The Sheriff’s son? I won't be able to protect you. This hole you are digging is just too deep.” The two Stilinski men made their way inside just as the rain picked up. “You took your dogs to the dog park! You're unbelievable! You are lucky Parrish is too new to spot the lie in that one!”

“Dad… I…there is so much I wish I could tell you but… I can’t...you wouldn't believe me…it isn’t my secret to share.” Stiles muttered. “I just… it’s not what you think.” He averts his eyes, unable to look into his father's piercing gaze. 

“No!? It’s not, is it? Tell me, what do I think?” His father huffed out. 

“I didn't do anything, I'm - I'm not a murderer!” Stiles raised his voice. “I'm sorry that it's so hard for you to trust me. I know…I caused this. Trust that you've raised me to know right from wrong. Gods, Dad, I am really sorry.” 

“Stiles, that's just it. I can't trust a liar. I can’t trust you.” The sheriff shook his head with disappointment. “Why don't you act more like Scott? I've been over there for dinner at least 4 times this week, that Isaac kid and Scott are always so polite. Whatever you're into, you need to get out of it. Go be friends with Scott again, I'm sure he misses you. He was your moral half, you need him to keep you out of this trouble.” 

Stiles's mouth dropped. Anger surged through his veins at those words. How dare he! Scott doesn't even notice he's not around. And Melissa, Isaac, and Scott are all aware of the supernatural shit show going on, of course they can sit down and enjoy dinner together. They have nothing to hide! The rain outside increased its pace. “He's a werewolf, dad.” Stiles muttered. 

“What son?” His dad hadn't heard. “Speak up, I'd hate to miss the new tale your spinning. Explain how you just happen to be on your way home when your least favorite teacher was found murdered a few feet from you. The 3rd murder case you were at. Alone. Without witnesses, I might add. Three is a pattern. Although the mechanic could still be ruled an accident. The department wants to reopen that case. Stiles. This is not looking good for you.”

Thunder clapped outside, followed by several barks and scratches on the back door. 

*** 

Three wet and sad faces stared up at the Sheriff as he opened his door. They pushed their way past and trudged up the stairs, leaving behind a trail of water. Stiles was already cleaning it up. He produced Febreze from out of nowhere, and in only a moment, the house appeared to be dog free again. The sheriff scrutinized his home looking for signs that he may have missed pointing to the three new occupants. He couldn't find anything. No stray dog toy. No poorly cleaned ‘accident’ on the carpet. Not a single chew mark on the furniture. As a matter of fact the house looked remarkably clean, dust free, even though the Sheriff couldn't remember the last time he had even bought a duster, let alone used it. The laundry room showed the only signs of clutter. The kitchen sink was dish free. None of these things could be attributed to him. The sheriff was a little taken aback by the realization. 

That trail of thought was halted when he remembered what brought him to look around the house. “How long?” He asked, previous venom no longer present in his tone. 

“A little over two weeks, I found them, dad. I love them. I take care of them with my own money. Please, please don't make me get rid of them. I know I'm a fuck up. (“Language!”) I know you're mad. I am so sorry. I'm sorry I was in the wrong place at the wrong time tonight, again. I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission to keep the dogs. I'm sorry, okay. But.... I need them too.” Stiles voice was small. He felt like a child again. His eyes pricked with tears. 

“Okay, here's the deal. I've wanted to ask this of you for awhile, now. If you pass the test then you can keep them.” His dad stated in his matter-of-fact cop voice. “You're grounded either way. More than, if you fail.” He added as an afterthought. 

Stiles was confused, until he looked up. His father was holding a pee-in-the-cup drug test! He must have gotten it from Melissa, because it had the Beacon Hills General logo on the side. The top had a long list of drugs, mostly prescriptions, with a little symbol next to each. “If you're on anything, and I mean anything, this will pick it up.” His dad stated plainly. “I'd like you to take it tonight.” 

The mix of emotions swirling inside Stiles was overwhelming. He had a lot to say. He was also shocked speechless. After a couple of deep breaths, he asked his father if he would like to witness the test with a bit of snark. He grabbed the cup from his dad’s hand and made his way to the half bath on the first floor. 

Sheriff Stilinski actually contemplated his answer for a couple of seconds before he softly replied with a no. 

Stiles returned immediately after, feeling almost violated in some way. He placed the cup on a paper towel on the counter in front of his dad in the kitchen. “The pups sleep in my room.” He stated firmly, as he ascended the stairs, not even waiting around for the results. 

*** 

Stiles thought bitterly that there would be no going back from this. How could he and his dad ever rebuild their relationship? He would never be his dad’s little spastic boy again, how could he? His dad tested him for drugs, he'll forever be his father's mess up, his embarrassment. The new low he had reached had him operating in a zombie-like state. He brushed his teeth and showered robotically. 

Stiles entered his room and proceeded to dress in sweat pants and joined his wolves in bed. It was only half past 9 during summer vacation, it had to be a record. He was exhausted. It seemed ages ago that the pack set off to walk their way to Dr. Deaton’s. The rain continued to pound on Stiles’s window. Hopefully, it will lull him to sleep.

“Ahem” 

Stiles bolted up. Sitting at his desk was a slightly dampened werewolf holding a sleeping Brin in his lap. Despite Derek's stoic demeanor, he couldn't help but grin a bit as Stiles stumbled and reached for his bat, which wasn't there (it was still in his Jeep). 

“Attack.” Stiles said half-heartedly as he recognized the intruder. All three wolves jumped to attention, teeth bared. It was surprisingly difficult for Brin who was standing with his front paws on Derek's chest, snarling, ready to bite on command, while his round large eyes betrayed his true desire and his ears flattened submissively with his internal struggle. Derek's small grin instantly vanished. He looked a bit panicked. 

Stiles immediately called off the wolves. “I'm sorry, I didn't know they would do that. I was just kidding when I said they were trained to bite.” Brin rolled over to allow Derek to rub his belly and Remus went back to sleep at the foot of Stiles’s bed. Nymeria pulled up her favorite plaid shirt and claimed Stiles's pillow keeping her eyes trained on the alpha werewolf. “Wait. What are you doing here? My chair is wet!” Stiles examined his room, there was a puddle by the window. “My room!” Stiles protested. 

“Your observational skills leave much to be desired,” was Derek's lack of a reply to Stiles’s question. 

“Wait… I totally dropped my towel in here a minute ago!” Stiles said more to himself than the wolf, his face instantly 3 shades darker. Derek didn't reply, but there was a twinge of pink in his cheeks that answered the unasked question, regardless. 

“Did you hear everything? Why are you here.” Stiles asked. “Do you sneak in often? You so left my window open that one time, didn't you!” Stiles accused.

Derek sighed. “Heard enough. Isaac told me about you receiving a revenge symbol. But first, you found another dead body? Tell me.”

Stiles huffed. Why not make the day longer? In hushed tones he recounted the information he learned at the vets, he explained in great detail, this time, how he became a father of three wolfy babies, he shared what he, Lydia, and Allison talked about at the park, and he told him about coming across Mr. Harris. He even reencountered his earlier argument with his dad, even though he was pretty sure Derek heard all of it. As he talked the storm outside gradually started to recede and with it Stiles’s mood seemed to lift. Nymeria on the other hand maintained eye contact with the elder wolf the entire time, her head would follow his every movement.

The alpha was a surprisingly good listener. He made several valid points. The two agreed that a Druid or what Stiles was now deeming a Dark Druid must be behind the animalistic behavior problems. He even agreed that it may be because of the murders. Stiles asked if a Druid would be willing to commit murder if it meant that balance would be restored? Or maybe, they could become a serial killer to purposely throw the balance off. Derek volunteered to talk to Peter about it, because he apparently was a Hale family history buff. The Hales have typically had a Druid as their emissary. Keepers of balance as they are, they make for good emissaries when guiding a wolf pack. Derek also further explained the reasons behind the spiral. He drew out the symbol that was painted on his door. It was different. It looked kind of like Derek’s triskelion. It was made with straight lines rather than curved, however. Derek said it belongs to the Alpha pack. A pack of alphas, what? It took some time for Derek to explain, but apparently this pack has made a name for itself, and it marked Derek. They are coming for him. The alpha seemed somewhat closed off about this subject. He stressed that the Alphas were ‘seriously not something to mess with’. And, definitely not related to the Druid and they ‘kill with claws Stiles, not garrotes.’ The alpha’s should have had no reason to single out either Scott or Stiles with the Spiral. But, Scott's spiral could have been meant for Isaac, too. Overall, lots of questions were answered. While many new ones surfaced. Stiles promised to actually text once he had spent some significant time researching. Although, as Stiles is grounded, he may not have a chance to meet up outside of this room. The werewolf nodded his head, indicating that that wouldn't be an issue.

Stiles also ran a thought by Derek, something that was nagging on his mind since he regained his hearing earlier that evening. “Are banshees real?” He asked.

“Never met one, but had you ever met a werewolf prior to 6 months ago?” Derek answered a question with a question in a typical Derek fashion.

“True.”

“You don't hang out with the pack anymore.” Derek fidgeted in his seat as he stated the fact.  
“It wasn't by my doing.” Stiles replied after a minute’s pause. 

“You know you can come by, right? Anytime, after you’re not grounded, that is.” 

“I wouldn't want to intrude on pack stuff.” Stiles answered in a small voice. “It's not like anyone else wants me there. You know.” 

“I don't think… I don't think anyone meant to leave you out.” Derek said. “No one hates you.” He bit out. It was obvious that this conversation was difficult for him.

“I'm not so sure. Scott is, like, my best friend, and it's like pulling teeth getting him to call me back. Things changed after he got bit. He has more friends, he can’t- no, he doesn't want to make time for me, I get it. He doesn't need me anymore.” Stiles sighed. “It's hard to see how much distance has grown between us, though. It's hard to be in the same room as him. And, like, Erica and Lydia were totally friendly with me recently but we’ve barely talked, really. Erica hit me on the head with a piece of my own Jeep, for crying out loud! Like, what am I supposed to think? And Isaac! It's hard sharing Scott with Allison but if he's not with her, he's with him! And he gets to have Mrs. McCall now too. And, I guess my dads over there all the time these days…” Stiles had to stop, he almost choked up on that last sentence. “It's whatever man, is what it is. Besides, I have my babies,” he placed a hand on Nymeria's head, “for now.”

“What?!” Derek raised his voice. 

“Shhh, my dad!” Stiles reminded him.

“Your father is asleep, I can hear his heartbeat.” 

It was quiet for a whole minute while Stiles strained his ears. “That's so creepy, dude,” he replied, and then explained, “Deaton said the wolves would have to be, well, wolves in a couple of months. They will need to hunt, and they'll need more space than my already crowded room.” Stiles took a deep breath, “I think I need them, Derek, like, I'm not sure what I’ll do without them.” Derek hugged Brin closer and nodded.

By now it was well past midnight, and Stiles's opportunity for an early night of sleep was blown. The alpha said he had to go continue his patrol, as if stopping by his room in the evening was a part of some nightly routine. Brin happily curled up in Stiles's lap as Derek made his way to the window. The alpha was gone in a blink of an eye. Nymeria let out a howl, and it was quickly joined by one just beyond the tree line in Stiles's backyard.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** possible trigger- see the end note to avoid spoilers

 

Because you are all so amazing, I pilfered some images for you! The names came from comment suggestions! 

 Remus (Lupin) Nix Stilinski 

Nymeria Nocturn Stilinski 

 

 

 

 Brin Fenrir ~~Stilinski~~ Hale (Derek wishes)

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being grounded meant no car. The sheriff literally removed the battery from his beloved vehicle, because Stiles had proven, on more than one occasion, that he could jump start the Jeep by rolling it down the driveway. But, as his father was working doubles daily, Stiles was able to take the pups for extended walks through the preserve without him knowing. Before long, Stiles became fairly familiar with the area. He knew the shortest path to get to the old Hale house. The house stood looming spookily over the forest. What started as a test of grit to face his fears, quickly became a favorite trip among his growing little guys. Stiles didn't mind, because it gave him a destination with a front porch to rest on before returning. In an attempt to continue to push himself, Stiles developed an exercise routine which now included push ups and sit ups in addition to the pull ups. His hard work was starting to pay off, he had the faintest out line of a six pack, and he wasn't even part wolf!

***

That is how Peter and Derek found him; doing push ups in the Hale back yard several days later. Stiles's wolves instantly ran to defense mode, forming a protective barrier separating Stiles from the weres. Peter in his designer clothes (in the middle of the woods!?) straightened to attention, eyes glowing a bright blue at the threat. Derek, meanwhile, continued his stride, passing the pups, and pointed out corrections for Stiles to make in his stance. “You’ll be able to do more with less strain this way,” he explained to Stiles, who took that as an invitation to continue his set.

The two boys talked friendly small talk to one another as Stiles sat up, wiping off a bead of sweat with his over shirt. He noticed Derek’s eyes follow the movement and chose to keep it off. There was an unfamiliar sensation building in his stomach. They continued their conversation as they made their way to sit on the back door steps.

“As wonderful as it is to see you two getting along so well, it would be nice if you called off the hounds!” Peter’s voice drawled from across the yard.

“Should I tell them to bite?” Stiles asked Derek. Nymeria let out an approving bark at the suggestion.

Peter smirked. “It would mean the end of your ragtag pack, here.”

“They go for the balls first.” Derek said, deadpan. Peter’s smile quickly faded.

“Do you want to test a real wolf?” Stiles asked. Peter only continued to frown. “….No? Well, come here guys, Peter is okay…for now.”

Peter and the wolves joined the other two on the steps. Brin, being the total lovable traitor that he is, sauntered right up to Derek and whined until the alpha scooped him up. Nymeria sat directly in front of Peter, daring the older man to move without her permission. Remus, on the other hand, sniffed the newbie, before pouncing at his foot playfully.

“Nymers, it's okay. You can leave the man alone, Remus is watching him.” Stiles told the she-wolf. She gave him a pointed look before promptly grabbing his over shirt from his hand. “Not another one!” Stiles had mumbled.

“Nymers?” Derek asked with one eyebrow raised. Stiles only shrugged.

It turns out Peter was a great source on Druids. It had been the Hale family tradition that the emissary remained distant from the pack and helped the alpha in times of need. The distance was a way of keeping their personal opinions or feelings separate. Druids in particular prefer this, for balancing purposes. Apparently not all packs were like this, however, and some encouraged the emissary to interact with every member of the pack to increase familiarity. Others, still, chose an emissary from the pack itself. The emissary truly could be anyone. It's recommended that the pack choose someone with a good sense of right and wrong, and the ability to handle many different situations. Emissaries are used when negotiating with other packs or to settle differences. They are typically well respected among the supernatural community. Like most of the old werewolf families, the Hales favored the Druids. Their affinity with nature gave them an almost awe-inspiring persona. In the past they were given titles such as witches or mages, and likened to magical beings. But, now a days, they've shared their secrets, and it's really all a matter of knowing what herbs mix well and what poisons can do to certain creatures. Peter had always detested the Hale tradition of keeping their druid an arms length away. It turns out he has kept remarkably close tabs on the good vet. Dr. Deaton's file included his bank statements dating back by 20 years (missing a few as Peter was in the burn ward), his social security number, and Peter even had his work schedule and was able to tell them the Deaton was currently in a 2 hour ‘cat ate my earring’ surgery. Stiles appreciated Peter’s thoroughness, and kept the file.

“You know it's not safe out here, the alpha pack marked this house.” Peter added, looking between his nephew and the boy. “I know you think they are only interested in you, as you are the alpha now, but perhaps you should consider better protection for all of your pack mates?” Wait, did Peter consider Stiles pack?

“Peter.” Derek sighed.

“Listen nephew, your self-sacrificing plan isn't going to work. It's not how the alphas operate.” He added with a twisted smile, “Just consider other…options.” Peter stood. “I'll let you two enjoy your afternoon,” He added with a wink as he walked straight into the darkness of the trees, avoiding the road like the creeper he was.

Derek remained quiet, thinking things over. “He's right, it's not safe out here on your own.” He declared.

“I'm not on my own, I have the…” Stiles was caught off guard as a feral mountain lion bolted into the clearing. It came straight for them. Derek leapt into action, shifting in the process and standing protectively in front of Stiles. But Nymeria beat him to the punch. She was surprisingly quick for her small stature. Her canines sunk deep in the lion’s throat. The pair landed at Derek's feet, Nymeria with a small whimper from the impact. The lion was dead. “…pups.” Stiles finished.

Derek examined Nymeria, and even went so far as to take her pain. She was back on her feet in no time, head held high as she proudly stood over her first kill.

***

Stiles wasn't allowed to meet up with Lydia, even though he had several important things to discuss with her. They developed an ongoing text conversation in the meantime. The two plotted. In an attempt to find a connection between the growing number of victims, she planned on trying a new route. It turns out, Deputy Parrish slyly gave her his number when he escorted her home the other night. She's been working that angle, expressing her curiosity in the law and order process. Parrish has been more than willing to help her understand, and she may have gleaned more than a little look at the official reports.

Lydia continued to push Stiles to talk to Mrs. McCall about the bodies. She had access and personally examined at least one of them and is aware that things aren't always as they seem. She might know something that could trigger their connection. Stiles was apprehensive to see the nurse because he was avoiding Scott. His talk with Derek helped to shed some light on how he had been feeling, and while more distance probably wasn't the answer, continuing to avoid the problem would make it go away… right? Either way, Stiles was actually okay with using his grounding as an excuse to not go over to Scott's house. But, as usual, things did not go according to his plans. Stiles found himself being woken up by his father early one Friday morning.

It was the first they had spoken since the night of Mr. Harris’s murder.

“Listen kid,” his father said as he open his son’s bedroom door. Three and a half sets of heads popped up at once. Nymeria had a bit of a struggle with detangling her shirt. The sheriff took a moment before continuing. He sighed. “Son, I know things have been hard lately. I haven't been home as much, and we just don't talk like we used to. When was the last time you ate at Sam’s diner, huh?” (It was last week, Sam ‘accidentally’ dropped three burger patties on the floor while Stiles was placing his to go order, and insisted he take a booth with his pups so they can eat while he waited. Sam delivered the burgers with a free milkshake too, which didn't come from the floor. Stiles had jokingly asked ‘just in case’) “Technically, you did past the, uhhh drug test, but umm, you kind of also failed.” Stiles, who was ready to tune his father out, perked up at this and started to actually pay attention. “When was the last time we filled your Adderall script?” The sheriff asked. Oh!

“I'm not sure, it's expired. I need to visit the doctor.” Stiles said as he made his way up. Looking for clean enough clothes. “I can call and make an appointment.”

“Yes. I figured you were out. You had none in your system,” the sheriff elaborated, unnecessarily. “I already talked to Melissa. She got you an appointment with a behavioral analyst at the hospital. You haven't appeared as jittery lately without them, you may have outgrown the need. But if they disagree he will write you a month’s prescription, until we can get you in to see your usual doctor for the yearly one.”

Stiles had nothing to say, it's not like he was in any position to argue.

“I'm going to drop you off at Melissa’s on my way into work and she is going to take you in when her shift starts at four. I should be off around nine or so to pick you up. Mel said you can bring the dogs by, and Scott will watch them once you two leave for the hospital. Your appointment is at 5:30 on the children's ward floor. Mel will take you there,” his dad told him in his best no-argument cop voice.

Stiles was screaming ‘No!’ In his head. ‘No, I will not sit around a hospital all night so I can spend ten minutes with a pediatrician! No, Scott will not watch my babies! No, I will not have Melissa babysit me like I'm some kid. No! No! No!’

“Okay, dad,” was all Stiles could manage.

***

The McCall residence looked pretty much the same, despite it gaining a new member since Stiles’ last visit. It was still early morning (10am, early for teens on summer vacation) so Melissa answered the door and informed the Stilinskis that the boys were asleep upstairs. Knowing that they had excellent hearing, Stiles loudly called for his dogs to come inside. His smart little pups picked up on his intent and started barking and yipping merrily as they licked Melissa in greeting.

“They are usually so quiet! I didn't even know they existed for bit there,” the sheriff pondered out loud. “Thanks again Mel for taking the delinque…the kid.” He corrected himself. Stiles’ prior title as delinquent was probably too close to the real thing for the sheriff to jokingly use on his son.

Mrs. McCall gave Stiles a really long hug. It was nice. “I missed seeing your face, kiddo.” She ruffled his grown out hair. “You’re looking good. Join me for a cup of coffee?”

Despite her asking, it wasn't really a request. She already had two cups out on the table. “Stiles, hun, what has been going on with you lately?”

Well where to start? Stiles looked up at his pseudo mother for the past eight years, and just broke down. He told her about Scott almost killing him, about his inability to tell his dad what was happening throughout the school year, about the constant fear that he might mess up and it could cost someone their life. He talked about how guilty he felt for his part in Peter and Kate's murder and he admitted that he really feels guilty because he doesn't feel guilt over their deaths. Granted, one of them is alive again. He thinks that might make him a sociopath. He admitted how afraid he was while paralyzed, how afraid he was in the Argent basement. How he secretly might not forgive Allison, but he feels he has to because she is important to Lydia and Scott. He gulps, and admits that he feels like Isaac has replaced him. That even though it’s selfish, he doesn't want to share either of the McCalls with him. He tells her how lonely he was and expressed his shock at finding out that pretty much everyone else is best buds now without him. His breaths started to come in shallow bursts. He told Melissa that he can’t trust anyone, because no one was really there for him. He told her that something is wrong with this town, and that something big is going to happen, he can just feel it. And, yet, he can’t figure out what, or how everything relates, and how frustrating it is. He was barely able to manage more than a whisper. And he told her of his worries about not being able to afford to take care of his puppies, and what would happen to them when they get older. He was trying to breathe. But it felt like the harder he tried the less able he became.

“Can’t…can’t… breathe…” he managed between desperate attempts to fill his lungs.

“It's okay honey, I'm here. Breathe with me, in, out, in, out, very good.” Melissa held his hand to just above her chest. “Keep it up… in and out.” She encouraged.

“Mom! Is he okay?” Scott's panicked voice came from the entryway to the dining room. “Stiles…” He looked broken, a stray tear rolling down his face. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd all stood behind him with equally distraught faces.

Stiles recovered from the initial shock of going into a panic attack. It had been years since his last one. All three of the real wolves surrounded him for comfort and support. They were whimpering.

“Sorry guys.” Stiles stammered while wiping his face in their fur.

“We heard everything!” Erica and Scott said at the same time. And then they both looked at each other. “Where did you come from?” Scott asked her.

“We were out on patrol and we heard Stiles crying.” She stated. “Where were you?” She accused.

“I wasn't…” Stiles started to defend himself, but he realized he did have tears on his face.  
“We were sleeping, it's so early.” Scott retorted.

“He is your best friend and he feels like this and where were you?” Erica asked again, accusation clear in her tone.

“Erica, we all feel guilty.” Boyd placed an arm on her shoulder and steered her towards an empty chair. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his. Stiles stared unashamedly and wondered when that had happened, he gave Boyd a forced grin to let him know he approves.

Isaac, who was still sleep rumpled, walked over to Stiles and held his hands out for a hug. “I'm really sorry, Stiles. Me moving in here must have been a big change for you too. And, maybe I've always been a little jealous of you and Scott. You guys have been brothers for so long… I was really kind of excited to have that too, you know.”

Stiles thought over the words. He stood to give Isaac his hug. “This isn't me accepting your apology, not yet. I need time, I'm just… I'm kind of jealous too, I guess.”

“Jealous of Isaac, dude, he lost both his parents and he's been through so much. Cut him some slack, he has no one else.” Scott quickly defended his friend.

Eight sets of eyes looked disbelievingly at Scott. Erica face palmed. But Melissa slammed her coffee cup down on the table, splashing the remains a bit.

“Okay, everyone out of here, get out of hearing range. These two are going to talk, and I'm going to mediate,” She huffed. “Go! Now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a panic attacked that is described as it happenes, not much detail. But if you need to avoid it, skip the end of the chapter when Stiles is dropped off at Melissa's.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> This might be a bit scary one for some of you so if that's an issue make sure to read with the lights on!

The dismissed werewolves left the house with groans of disappointment. It was raining again.

“This weather!” Erica complained loudly. “It needs to make up its mind.”

***

“It's really okay, Melissa,” Stiles started to protest. “I don't actually have more to say.”

“Stiles, honey. You can listen.” Mrs. McCall patted his arm. “You can both listen.”

Scott sat down, generally confused. His mom told the story of two little boys who defended each other from playground bullies. She continued and reminded them that both of these boys lost a parent in their own ways and that they became each other's rock. She explained how they were closer than friends, spending exceedingly way to much time together, because their remaining parents both considered the other boy as good as their own son. The boys were brothers in all but blood. Then something happened to one boy, something good and bad, new and terrifying. It was a big change for that boy. But, it was a big change for the other boy too. He was terrified for himself and his brother, happy and sad for his brother, and he was in awe of his brother. But the dynamics of their relationship had changed. It was no longer two boys against the world. It was one boy learning how to be all over again and doing it with new people, helping new people, becoming a part of something larger. And, in the process he left his brother behind. Everything was new and exciting and so much to take in. The other brother watched on with fear of the changes. He wasn't asked to come over as much anymore, he wasn't called when the other needed to talk, he was left on his own. And, when his whole world had been his brother, on his own was a very lonely place to be.

Stiles was rendered speechless. She had kind of hit the nail on the head with that monologue. He nodded, to show that he agreed and was listening.

Scott looked like he was considering his mother’s words. “So we’re the brothers and I'm the jerk who left his brother behind?” He asked slowly. Maybe the slow and painfully obvious route was the way to go with him this time.

“Yes, dear,” The nurse said. “Scott when was the last time you called Stiles? When was the last time you stopped by his house? We are on our second month of summer vacation and this is the first time I've seen him.” She sighed. “You guys were inseparable this time last year. If he isn't here with you who do you think he is with?”

“He has friends too, mom! And, I'm working a lot to save up for that bike! Derek is always asking about him when I'm over there. He's the reason we stopped accusing him of murder and started to listen to him in the first place! Plus, Lydia asked me for his number before school let out.” Scott turned to face Stiles. “ I mean you've had the biggest crush on her since forever, I figured you'd be all over hanging out with her, now. And, Danny mentioned wanting to take you to the Jungle on Friday nights with some of his friends, said it might help you figure some stuff out.” Scott looked unsure.

“He hasn't called me or asked me to hang out once? Are you sure he didn't ask you to tell me? Why would I hang out with Derek? I didn't even know where he lived until two weeks ago! Scott, I had no idea you all were having pack nights and training. It was news to me when we had our one and only phone call all summer. Lydia wants to know about who she truly is, I think she's a banshee by the way, but that ship has sailed. Do you remember when her declaration of love saved Jackson? He had died, and was dying again, and her love saved him. I can't compete with that! I'm not even sure I want to. I thought you were busy chasing after Allison, trying to date her again. Come to find out you’re going out again, you’re going to movies with Isaac. Playing Mario Kart with Boyd. It's a tough pill to swallow. I'd do anything for you man, but I'm not sure you would even realize if something happened to me. Did you know I'm the one that got Erica and Boyd out of the Argent’s basement? I knew they were there, because I was there too. I took a hell of a beating, which was supposed to be a message for you. But, Gerard picked the wrong target because the message was not received… and you went behind all of our backs to come up with a plan to get him bit! Sure he was spewing black crap all over the place, but he’s part wolf now and you guys heal. That was dangerous, man. I needed you.” Stiles took in a breath before continuing. “I did need you. But, I don’t know… I'm not sure if I want you anymore, as a friend that is.” His eyes were wet but the tears refused to fall. Stiles’s jaw was set with determination as he looked at Scott who was shaking his head.

“Please, man. Please…. You're my best friend… you're my brother…” Scott said in desperation. I need you… even if…” he trailed off. “I didn't realize.” Scott screwed up his face with determination, “You have always been welcomed for pack stuff, hell, you were pack before most of the guys. Come tonight!” He chimed in happily, as if that would solve everything.

“Look man, even if I wanted to, I can't.” Stiles admitted. “ I'm grounded, probably forever, and I have this appointment at the hospital, it's why I'm here now, so your mom can take me. The Jeep is out of commission as long as I'm still grounded.”

“Grounded!?” Melissa piped in. “I thought you passed that ridiculous drug test your father asked me for.”

“Drug test!” Scott squeaked. “Stiles… please tell me you didn't….”

“What, no! I passed! Of course I did. I'm not that stupid, I'm the son of the sheriff, I probably couldn't get away with so much as a joint, even if I wanted to…. Even if you and dad both grew up in the 70’s and were probably more than a little familiar yourselves!” Stiles addressed Mrs. McCall who blushed at being called out. “But, I am grounded, I wish it was for something as fun as getting high or drunk to drown my sorrows. I would agree with my dad's punishment then, you know. But, no, I was at the murder scene, for …Mr. Harris. You know how much he hated me, it didn't look good.” Stiles shook at the memory. “I also found that hiker chick from BHCC on the side of the road…. And, I knew Heather, she was… a really good friend when my mom was still alive. And, I was at the station when that whole mess went down, I was the only witness when the kanima got the mechanic. It’s not like I can just tell my dad a giant lizard did it. Actually, I probably could, for all he believes me. Jackson’s restraining order was a new low for me, I'm like the world’s worst son.”

“Oh sweetie!” The nurse rubbed his back. “You should talk about how you're feeling at your appointment tonight. Let them know how you really feel about everything that has been going on. Don’t hold back, if you’re feeling depressed, let him know.” She added.

“Appointment? For what?” Scott really wasn't one for picking up on details.

“Behavioral doc, adderall.” “Therapist.” Stiles and Mrs. McCall replied in unison.

“Therapist for kids?” Stiles questioned.

“Dr. Graves, is a children's psychologist. He can recommend Adderall, if you still need it. But I think you won’t. He is really nice, and good at his job, even if you're one of his older patients.” She explained.

“Oh. I'm not talking…Melissa, I can't talk about my real problems if they involve werewolves!” Stiles protested.

“No, I suppose not, but you can talk about how you feel.” She reminded him. Stiles’ jaw tightened at the thought.

“Stiles….” Scott addressed his former best friend, “I'm sorry.”

Stiles perked up at that. He didn't expect an apology, at least not one without Scott's mother forcing his hand. He nodded slowly. “Like I told Isaac, I can't accept it just yet, but maybe…soon.”

***

The rest of the werewolves returned, slightly wet, shortly after Scott sent a text to Isaac. Surprisingly, Jackson was with them too. Stiles guessed that's where they disappeared too, which really was out of hearing distance! Everyone apologized for being less than perceptive friends, except Jackson, which is only fair because, really, Jackson didn't drop the ball as they were never friends to begin with. Mrs. McCall ordered pizza for lunch.

The group played video games. And discussed the Beacon Hill mysteries. Scott was shocked and a little pissed at Derek when he realized how serious the spiral he received could be. Stiles thinks it must be from the alpha pack, because who else knows about werewolf symbols? The group was mostly uninformed of the Alpha pack too, which begs the question, what is Derek thinking? They talked about the murder spree. Jackson and Stiles spent at least an hour talking about the possibility of Lydia being a banshee. He seemed like he really cared, which was an entirely new side of him. One which Stiles appreciated. Everyone played with the pups as they took turn passing the controllers around. The little guys seemed to fit in nicely with the group. Some time during their video game-a-thon the rain let up.

Eventually, it was time for Stiles to go.

“I guess you don't mind if I leave my dogs here, then? They are really well behaved.” He added hopefully to Scott's mom.

“Nah, dude. We’ll take care of them!” Scott announced, happily. “Hey! They can come with us to Derek's tonight for the pack dinner!” He added, with a large grin towards his original best friend. “It will be their first official pack meeting.”

Stiles just blinked at the statement.

Erica though, gods bless her, hit Scott upside his head. Jackson threw his arms up in exaggeration and walked away. Boyd was shaking his head. Isaac was stood behind Stiles mouthing the word no to Scott.

Stiles actually smiled, more out of the ignorance of his former friend’s statement. “Listen,” he addressed Erica and Boyd, who were holding hands again, “Can you make sure they are okay? Keep an eye out for the pups? Derek should be okay with them coming to the loft, he has a soft spot for that little guy.” He pointed to Brin. “I'll call him after I'm home to see what I can do about picking them up.”

He turned to his young wolf pack and hugged them all goodbye, allowing them to scent mark him, before slipping his sneakers on and joining Mrs. McCall by the front door. He was more than a little nervous at the thought of his upcoming appointment.

“I don't know where we went wrong with that one.” Melissa said to Stiles in reference to Scott as they left the house.

***

It turns out, Stiles had nothing to worry about, because Dr. Graves never showed up for his first appointment that day. He was already bored 30 minutes in, waiting in the nurse's lounge for his dad to show up at 9.

He and Lydia were having a heated discussion, via text, about how Stiles had spent all morning with Mrs. McCall and failed to ask about the bodies. What could he say? It was true, after all. He distracted her by asking her to translate the Argent’s bestiary entry on banshees. This caught her attention, and she promised to have it completed by tonight's dinner. Another reminder of what he was missing out on. He swallowed his pride and told her to give his pups some extra loving and shut off his phone; He didn't feel like talking with anyone at the moment. The poor weather from earlier that day had returned with vengeance.

***

Periodically the lights would flicker or dim. Despite it only being about five in the afternoon, the sky was so dark you would have guessed it was well into the night. Loud cracks of thunder broke the lonely silence of the nurse’s lounge.

“Just checking up on you kiddo,” Mrs. McCall poked her head in to see how Stiles was fairing. “It's kind of hectic out here, so do you mind just staying in here and away from the chaos? I'm sorry you’re probably bored. Did the power issues affect the TV?”

“Yeah, and no, I just have it off. I'll be in here if you need me.” Stiles said with a fake grin, “don't work so hard.” He added as several ER nurses came screaming past about some ER doctor that never came back from break. Another one shouted that Dr. Hillyard should have reported for duty by now, she was on call! The lights flickered again, ominously. It was going to be a long night for Melissa, despite Stiles’ wish that she take it easy.

The storm outside only continued to grow stronger as the bangs and yells of panic seemed to increase from the ER room on the other side. Stiles worried about his wolves, and hoped they were able to stay fairly dry in this weather.

A particularly loud thunderclap caused Stiles to jump back into awareness. He noticed how the constant commotion from outside the door had ceased to exist. With trepidation he quietly crossed the room to open the door and peer out into the now quiet ER. The lights dimmed again. He reached for the handle. Closing his eyes he gave it a quick turn to pull it open.

The doorknob rattled. It was locked. Except, this particular door locks from his side, and he most certainly didn't lock the door. He twisted the lock so that he could unlock it but as soon as it was in the unlock position it flicked back to lock all on its own. He did this several more times, eyes scanning the room for the cause of this self-locking door handle. He was alone.

After multiple failed attempts at unlocking the door, he decided to be bold and pounded on the door, screaming, “Let me out! Let me out of here! Help!” His calls went unanswered. In his panic he had forgotten his phone, and he quickly went to turn it back on, to no avail. The screen remained black. He grabbed the landline phone that was on the counter in the lounge, but the line was dead, not even a dial tone. The eerie silence was getting to him so he quickly attempted to turn on the TV. It played only static, no matter what channel he switched to. He tried to shut it off, but the static remained on. Stiles grabbed the plug to cut off the power, but it didn't work. The TV static remained despite it being unplugged. Even the pounding of the rain seemed to dim, the static from the TV drowning it out. He moved back to the door, pounding on it. Kicking, screaming, for someone, anyone, to hear him. In vain, he attempted to unlock the door again. Panic swept in, chilling him to the bone. He placed his head against the door, hoping that this was some twisted dream. He was unsure of how long he stood there listening to nothing but static.

All of a sudden, the TV screen went blank and the lock popped open on its own. A gigantic moth landed on the door handle. Its large brown wings fluttered patiently, waiting for Stiles to open the door.

With trembling fingers he reached for the knob and slowly turned it. The ER was almost deserted. Only the emergency back up lights were on, but it was enough for Stiles to see the most grotesque figure he had ever seen. It looked like a walking corpse that was missing skin. Its face was pale, with violent looking red slash marks and light colored eyes staring at him. At the figure’s feet were three bodies.

Stiles was frozen with fear. The lights flickered again. The room went completely black. He held his breath.

When the lights snapped back on, it was with their blinding, full capacity. Stiles blinked from the impact on his retinas. When he fully opened his eyes the figure was gone. The room had several hundred moths floating in it, and several doors were being thrown opened at once. A magnitude of people, nurses and patients, walked in, only to freeze at the site of the three bodies lying on the floor. Several woman screamed. Others still, looked accusatorily at Stiles, who was still standing in the nurse’s lounge door frame. One was a female with long brown hair. She stared at Stiles with gleaming red alpha eyes. But he barely had time to register her because several officers were making their way into the room, lead by his father, who took one look at the bodies and marched up to Stiles, who was still isolated from everyone else.

“You have the right to remain silent…”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See end of the work for possible trigger WARNING!

Stiles looked directly into his father's eyes as he was read his Miranda Rights. He held his head up high, and offered his wrists to be cuffed comfortably in front of him. His dad, the nice guy that he was, removed his Sheriff’s jacket to place on the cuffs, in order to obscure the view from prying eyes. He then removed his badge and declared himself off-duty. Deputy Parrish escorted Stiles out of the hospital, in front of a couple dozen people. It was embarrassing. The rain continued to pour, but it was a sad dribble compared to the thunderous storm that was raging only a short time ago.

Mrs. McCall refused to look at the sheriff as she ran to meet up with the officer before he could successfully place the criminal in the back seat of his squad car.

“Wait! Wait!” She called. Deputy Parrish halted, getting ready to intercept the civilian chasing after him.

“It’s okay Parrish, let her talk to him. Give them a minute.” The sheriff stated as he approached his own squad car, “just a minute.” He told Melissa and then addressed Stiles, himself. “I will meet you in the interrogation room as your parent, you are not to say a word without my presence, do I make myself clear?” Stiles gave one cold nod of his head in reply.

“Stiles! Oh, honey, I will tell the pa…” Melissa started to say but was cut off by Stiles, who looked pointedly at Parrish, who remained in earshot of the two.

“Tell them- tell them to take care of my babies for me, it's not safe for their breed at the station. But nothing else.” Stiles chose his words carefully. He couldn't afford for this interaction to make him appear even more guilty. “Tell Lydia it’s connected. It's all connected and dark. Very, very dark. Thank you.” He nodded to Parrish, who came back over. Melissa leaned in to give Stiles a hug, but was stopped by the deputy.

“We love you.” She muttered instead. Huh, it's been a long time since he heard that one, too.

Parrish asked what he meant by his Huskies being unsafe, but Stiles, true to his rights and word, remained quiet on the way to the station. The quick nurse must have already informed the pack of his arrest, because, despite his pointed request that they say away, 3 sets of glowing eyes greeted him from the tree line. Stiles could tell from their height and eye color that it must be Scott, Derek, and Peter.

The alpha, most likely, was planning on listening in. Stiles kept his head held high and eyes focused in front of him as he entered the station. A walk he has done a million times, but never quite like this. His father must have gone home to change, because they had beaten him to the station.

Every head turned his way as he made the walk of shame to the booking room. Deputy Parrish offered to wait for his father to start the holding process, but Stiles knew the law. He knew he would be held for 24 hours unless they could find a reason to book him. He chose to start the process immediately, and offered his finger tips for prints.

After the initial processing, he was placed in a small, windowless room with two-way glass. It was cold. The chair was uncomfortably hard. The silence got to him almost immediately. Ironically, he had never wished for his Adderall more as he sat there, holding his leg stiff, and doing everything in his power to prevent his cuffed hands from playing a tune on the table. Fortunately, there was a plain white clock on the wall.

His father took a remarkably long time to show. He arrived freshly showered and shaven. He quickly approved of the fact that his son was processed without his presence. Stiles understood. He now only had 22 hours left of his arraignment.

The questioning process began. Stiles didn't say a word. Really, who would believe the truth? Certainly not his father. There shouldn't be any evidence to hold him anyway. He doubted the security cameras would show anything of value, because the dark druid seemed more than capable of manipulating technology. There is definitely more to druidism than knowing the right herbs and poisons. It's apparently horror movie scary magical mojo too. He couldn't wait to have that conversation with Peter. He vaguely wondered if the sourwolf could hear his heartbeat to know he was actually in here, because he was not planning on saying a word for… 21 ½ more hours.

His father and the officers involved in the case quickly grew frustrated with his lack of cooperation. The off-duty Sheriff asked for a moment alone with his kid.

“Son, we can't help you if you don't tell us what happened. Tell me the truth, please….” His father pleaded with tears pricking the corners of his light blue eyes. “Please, the silence actually makes you appear more guilty. If they find any evidence… and they link it to the other bodies. That's nine cases with identical knife wounds, if they peg you for one you'll be tried for all nine. Possibly more because of your involvement in the recent animal attacks, and that ‘accidental’ mechanic shop incident will definitely receive a more thorough look through. This is serious. Deadly serious. They could petition the courts to seek the death penalty. It hasn't happened in years, and it’s highly unlikely to follow through, but life in prison, son. You'll be tried as an adult with this many victims. You are looking at life if they can tie you to just one of those bodies.”

A quick glance on the clock told him he had 19 more hours of the silent treatment before he would be released. Well, he tried, but who is he kidding. Not speaking for 24 hours straight!? Not possible.

“Dad, look at me, I didn't do it. I didn't kill…these people.” Stiles voice was rough from lack of use. “Believe me?” His voice was soft and broken. Difficult to hear without werewolf ears.

The sheriff looked his son in his eye and shook his head with disbelief. “I can’t, son.”

Stiles sighed. “Mom would've.”

***

The interrogation continued. Stiles was fully cooperative, aside from his refusal to speak. He would periodically check the clock on the wall. The officers surely would have given up and allowed him to sleep on his grade A, sheriff station top quality, thin as a pancake cot by now, had he been anyone else. It was two in the morning by the time they decided to call it quits for the time being. Out of respect, they allowed the Sheriff to walk him to his holding cell. 

“I will be in here for 17 more hours and on my release I will need a ride, a lofty, nice ride. A spacious ride home, one that is lacking in furniture.” Stiles raised his voice as he made this strange announcement to his father. “And, a hotdog. Three hotdogs, well maybe 3 and half hotdogs. And, curly fries. But not curly haired fries, I mean actual curly fries because now I'm hungry talking about hotdogs and who likes hair in their fries. And maybe a burger, but don't forget the hotdogs. They are the most important.” He really shouldn't have tried to stay quiet for so long. It's just not in his DNA.

His dad looked at his son as if he was seriously considering having him see a psychiatrist, however this would be a very bad time to suggest such a thing. He wouldn't want it to appear as if they were building a case of insanity prior to the evidence, if it fell through, his son would be found guilty for sure.

However, the message was received loud and clear for the intended.

***

Sixteen hours and forty seven minutes later, Stiles walked out of the police station. It was a gorgeous bright blue day, even though sunset was only a little over an hour away.

His father was still off-duty. He had gotten almost no sleep. His officers informed him of the investigation on the hour, every hour. He opted to drive his son’s Jeep to pick him up. Despite the long night, he wore a smile on his face because today his son was not charged for the Beacon Hills' crime of the century, despite being the number one suspect.

Stiles, still wearing his clothes from the day before and hair an oily mess, also had a smile on his face. He walked right past his Jeep and climbed into the passenger side of a black Camaro. Nymeria, Brin, and Remus all clambered for his attention.

Derek Hale passed the younger Stilinski a milkshake and a takeout box from Sam’s diner. He tilted his sunglasses in greeting to the Sheriff before driving away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger WARNING  
> -Stiles gets arrested, it's sad and intense  
> -possible trigger PTSD
> 
> Please read with caution!


	9. Chapter 9

Rather than taking Stiles directly back to the loft, Derek drove him to a clearing on the north side of the preserve. It was close to the main road, and had a wide enough path that the Camaro was able to drive slowly down without issue. The two sat in relative silence, phones off, as Stiles ate, deep in thought. The clearing was a beautiful place to watch the sun go down. There was a small, sparkling pond with clear-ish water, which reflected the sky perfectly. The wolf cubs pounced and played with each other as the two men sat side by side on the hood of the car.

“So, you’re a hardened criminal now?” Derek asked tentatively, “kind of on the run even…”

Stiles smiled at that. “It’s only fair that I hide in your closet.” He shot the older man a bold wink. “But, in all seriousness, thanks dude, for picking me up. And for not bringing Isaac. And for actually bringing me curly fries.”

“So how did you do it?” Derek asked leaning in with a huge smile lighting up his face, as if he had been dying to ask.

Stiles, however, crumpled in on himself. Is the alpha actually asking how he got away with murder? Does he think he did it? Does everyone just assume that that is the type of guy he is? Do they all think so little of him?

Derek must have picked up on the instant mood change, because he quickly placed a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me, I meant how did you say practically nothing for 24 hours? I mean you must have been ready to burst in there…” He jokingly added.

Oh thank gods! “ It was the hardest thing I've ever done…but, hey, I've increased my push-up set to 95! I couldn't believe it! And, oh man, you should have seen my dad's face when he put me in the cell and I dropped to the floor and started to do bicycle crunches like some run-of-the-mill regular!”

“I can. Believe it, that is….you’re building a lot of stamina on those daily runs you take the wolves on.” Derek gave him a playful squeeze of his bicep to emphasize his point. The intimate gesture was probably no big deal for the alpha, but the heat from his touch lasted longer than normal and an entirely new feeling replaced the pit of despair in Stiles gut.

The two talked for awhile. Before they knew it, they were under a clear, star lit sky. Stiles had finally been able to recount his terrifying experience. It felt amazing, actually telling someone and knowing they believed him. Lydia got her message and discovered two important things, possibly three. She decided there is a reasonably good chance that she is, indeed, a banshee, which are apparently hereditary. She doubts it came from either of her parents, so she is currently scouring books on genealogy back at the loft. She also discovered a 'Darach’ in the bestiary. It literally means dark oak, and as the words used in Stiles’ message were ‘very, very dark’, the terminology caught her attention. A darach was once a druid, one that ignored balance for personal gain. Now, she is not sure how this could relate, exactly, but she thinks the Darach might be using the killings as sacrifices to increase power. Derek told Stiles about the threefold death and how that method is closely associated with sacrifices.

“That thing does not need more power!” Stiles had interrupted.

“Agreed.” Derek chimed in. “I’m more concerned about why it needs the power.”

“Yeah, what's its goal?” With that thought, Stiles informed the werewolf of the female alpha in the crowd at the hospital. “She looked angry at me. Maybe she was mad I didn't stop the killings? Most of the crowd was shooting glares of hatred in my direction, honestly.”

Derek found that to be very interesting. I guess twin alphas had recently crashed Boyd and Erica’s date. It was a public restaurant, so they didn't make much of a scene, but their point was loud and clear. He showed him a photo off his phone of one of the alpha's holding up a plate with their pasta sauce forming a perfect spiral. They flashed their red eyes and left after that. Derek told Stiles that he was sure that the alphas were coming to make him kill his own pack. Of course that wasn't an option and Derek was planning on killing himself if they ever got too close. He showed him the wolfsbane bullet he asked Allison for months ago. The Argents happily supplied him with a gun and Chris spent great detail showing him exactly how to use it!

This was news to Stiles. He was angry. Angry at Chris and Allison. But, he was really mad at the alpha. Without much thought for the consequences, he punched the werewolf right in the jaw. There was a sickening crack and much to their surprise, the alpha actually fell sideways from the impact.

Stiles instantly regretted his lapse in judgment, because he was now the proud owner of two unevenly sized hands. The larger one was already sporting black and blue knuckles.

After a muttered apology, the alpha gave Stiles his bullet, who pocketed it. Because,Stiles was now in need of an ER trip, but pointedly refusing to go, the two called the wolves back to the car and made their way to the loft so he could at least ice it.

***

The loft was full of people; It was full of pack. It also had furniture! It looks like the alpha took Stiles’ suggestion to heart, because there were two huge sectional couches facing each other, complete with an ottoman and chaise lounge. A gigantic wooden coffee table took up the center and each side of the couches had a matching miniature version. The bed was pushed further into the corner to give the illusion of privacy.

Everyone was there. Erica and Boyd were intertwined on one end of the couch. Danny was typing away on his laptop next to them. Jackson and Isaac were playing a rather dangerous game of catch with a lacrosse ball. Each throw was getting higher and higher as well as closer to the large window. Peter was out on the balcony, coffee cup in hand. Allison sat on Scott's lap, leaning over a map of Beacon Hills which took up half of the coffee table. Lydia had at least 30 large books spread out all around her and was taking up the remaining coffee table room. They all looked up and held their breath when Stiles walked in.

Brin rushed past as they entered to claim the alpha's bed as his own. Stiles had a suspicion that at least Brin, if not all of the pups, slept there last night. Remus whined by the edge of the couch until Erica invited him up. Nymeria, however, pawed under the couch until she was able to remove her plaid shirt. Whether she hid it there for safe keeping or left it there on accident was anyone's guess, but clearly being without all afternoon had caused her to experience withdrawal. She rejoined Stiles, trailing him with the shirt in her mouth, as he made his way into the kitchen to get some ice.

Derek gave his betas a look, and everyone continued what they were doing. It was now close to ten in the evening. Was everyone just going to stay the night? Is this a typical Saturday for the pack?

“I know you ate a couple of hours ago,” Scott piped up tentatively. “But, uhh I could really go for some food, and uh, we were waiting to see what you would like to eat?”

Everyone looked expectedly at Stiles who only shrugged. Then a ball came flying so fast that not even the alpha was able to stop it from nailing Stiles in the back of the head.

“Stilinski!” Jackson smirked. “What do you want for dinner? That jail grub couldn't have been appetizing, you did hard time and now you're on the outside, so What. Do. You. Want. For. Dinner? He said punctuating each syllable.

Derek looked livid. But, Stiles actually laughed. Hard, belly deep laughter bubbled up until he couldn't hold it in anymore. He walked over to Jackson throwing the ball into the air and catching it as he went until he was able to put an arm around the lacrosse captain.

“Dude, I think you're my new favorite beta.” He said, and then right before his arm reach the other teen’s shoulder, he pegged the ball down on the back of Jackson’s head with all the force his injured hand could muster. Stiles sprinted away as fast as he could, but the newly turned wolf was quickly able to tackle and pin him to the ground. The two laughed as they wrestled. Jackson made at least one crude remark about dropping the soap. In the end, Stiles was the clear loser. And then Nymeria jumped on Stiles’ pinned down chest, growling viciously at Jackson. Brin and Remus cornered his other side, moving in closer until Jackson was forced to get up. The three pups didn't give up there, however. They continued to corral the werewolf until he was pinned in the corner of the room. Three sets of sharp canines biting the air dangerously close to his calves.

“I win!” Stiles announced as he got up off of the floor. He walked over to Jackson and offered him his hand to shake. The pups instantly quieted. “How about Chinese?” Stiles asked the group at large.

Peter placed an arm around his nephew’s shoulders as he asked, “is that jealousy I’m smelling on you?”

***

The group ordered their late night dinner to be delivered as they discussed the supernatural murders taking place in their town. Allison and Isaac had the map marked with every murder location. The three most recent victims were all doctors. Dr. Graves was one of them. It turns out he had a excellent reason for his no-call, no-show at his first appointment the day before. He was dead. The ER doctor who didn't return from his break was also a victim, and the last was a fairly young doctor who was called in to replace the ER doctor. Being on call had cost her her life.

So in total they have nine bodies and only three of them were connected in any way, all being doctors. If Lydia was right, and she usually is, then the murders are all sacrifices in the name of making the darach stronger. Also, alpha pack… apparently wants revenge on everyone?

“Okay, I'm just going to say it.” Stiles said loudly as they went over what they know for certain for the tenth time in a row. “If Deaton is a druid. He could very well be our darach!”

“Dude, no! That is the second time you've accused my boss of being a raging murdering psychopath!” Scott quickly defended.

“I'm just saying, I'm usually right about these things!”

“Dude…” but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

A beautiful young lady with brown hair and emerald eyes peered around the group after Boyd answered the door. All three wolf pups found their way to Stiles, they appeared apprehensive of the newcomer.

“Jen!” Derek half yelled in surprise, how could no one hear her coming up? “Uhh guys this is Jennifer, she's the woman I told you about, the one at the coffee shop when the birds attacked.” (You most certainly did not!) He gestured around the room. “These are my friends, we were actually still looking into doing a report on unusual animal behavior.” He stumbled his words together, trying to come up with an excuse for the scene; eleven people crowded around old texts and a map of the town with large X’s in red, and thanks to Isaac's drawing skills, several actual dead bodies, one of which was being mauled by a wolf, and another had a shark attacking it from the edge of the pool. She eyed the map with interest as she made her way inside.

“Oh! Der! I was worried about you I must have called a hundred times over the past few days…” Jennifer smiled a huge dimpled smile at the alpha. Lydia’s eyebrows rose at this statement and everyone looked expectedly at Derek.

“Uhh my phone was off.” At least that statement was true. “Anyways, as you can see I have guests over tonight, so I'll call you?” He questioned as he escorted her back to the door. She scanned the room, her eyes lingering a little too long on Stiles's.

“Oh! Oh! Derek.” She leaned in rather close for someone who is just an acquaintance. “I wanted to tell you that I found that research paper I did in college on crows that I told you about. She pulled a thin folder out of her purse and passed it to him.

“Ah, thank you.” He shut the door in her face. The room was quiet.

“I take it back, she is the darach!” Stiles announced. “My wolves agree, they don't like her.”

“Stiles.” Derek said.

“Ahh, I wonder why that might be?” Peter’s oily voice chimed in.

“I'm sure I mentioned her, we had coffee, she told me about the bird attack.” Derek stated. Humpf, are his pants on fire? Stiles strained his head to look.

“A coffee date that led to a midnight house call?” Danny questioned. He received a ‘you better not have anything else to say’ look from the alpha.

***

Before long, it was early morning and half the pack was already asleep on the couch, or floor, or each other. Peter ominously stated he had something to do, and left. Jackson, Lydia, and Danny made their way out of the loft too, claiming that they would not sleep on the floor when Jackson has a perfectly good TempurPedic at home.

Derek offered his bed to Stiles, who initially refused. But his wolves wouldn't leave him alone until he joined them on the bed. Derek looked longingly but didn't ask to join. Brin barked at him.

“For the dogs,” Stiles said as he patted the open side of the bed.

As Derek changed into sweats and joined the wolves and boy who were taking up an extraordinary amount of the rather large bed, he commented on how they can go get Stiles some clothes and a bed of his own in the morning.

Stiles sat up at this. “What?” He asked confused.

“Well if you're staying..” Derek’s voice trailed off.

“I… I can't Derek. My dad. I… we have to talk.” He gulped. “Listen, thank you, for today. I needed this. I loved having everyone so close, and I bet Lydia was right about… well everything, I think we're finally figuring this out. But, my dad needs me… I probably have a hundred missed calls, although the police haven't showed up here yet.”

“I use an alias.”

“Of course you do, big guy, of course you do.” Stiles said as he yawned. “This was nice, it's just ….I'm not pack… not yet or not anymore… and I want to be I- I do, really.” He closed his eyes. “But what's going to stop everyone from forgetting about me again once the danger is over?” He questioned in a whisper as his breathing evened out.

“Stiles,” The alpha whined.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Stiles noticed when he woke was a significant lack of pain from his once throbbing hand. It took him a moment to recognize his unusual surroundings. He had to peek over Remus’s furry mass, but there was the broody wolf himself, sleeping peacefully with one hand held firmly around Stiles wrist. Light grey veins were periodically leaving his body and going up the alpha's arm. He was taking his pain. Had been for quite some time for the color to be so light.

Stiles carefully extricated himself from the bed without startling any of its sleeping occupants. Nymeria was, naturally, already awake and faithfully followed him into the kitchen. Stiles started a K-cup and jumped when he turned around and came face to face with none other than Peter. He looked wide awake for it being only seven in the morning.

“Sleep well?” He smirked.

“I did. Creep well?” The two had a silent war of the minds as both refused to be the first to move. Peter was trying to read Stiles’ face, but Stiles held himself impassive.

“I did.” Peter finally answered and he grabbed the newly finished cup of coffee and left the kitchen, presumably to find a dark corner to occupy.

Stiles reluctantly started another K-cup. He looked over to the couches. Allison and Scott had clearly attempted to sleep on one, but she was about to hit the floor, Scott left her so little room. “Good,” Stiles thought bitterly, “let her fall, serves her right for encouraging Derek to make such a horrible decision.” Isaac was on the floor. Erica and Boyd took up the other couch, laying the sensible way with their heads together and feet on opposite ends. He turned to look at the bed in the corner. Derek had replaced Stiles with Brin, who was enjoying a lazy belly rub from the sleeping alpha. Stiles smiled at that.

Stiles went to the fridge to look for creamer. He returned to find the cup of coffee missing again. Isaac was leaning up against the counter, blowing off the steam.

“Damn werewolves are so quiet.” Stiles grumbled.

Nymeria bared her fangs at Isaac, who bared his fangs in return. “That one does not like me!” He declared.

“Yes, well, you did threaten her with death when you first met.” Stiles reminded him as he made his third cup of coffee. “She has a good sense about her, yes she does!” Stiles gave her a pat on her head.

Isaac attempted to pat her head too, but Nymeria snapped at his hand so quickly he would have been bitten if he wasn't a werewolf. “What can I do to make it up to her?” He questioned.

Stiles wanted to be sarcastic. He felt several snappy retorts on the tip of his tongue. “Honestly?” He asked instead. “How well do you hunt?”

Isaac looked quizzical at the request. “I've given into my more feral side a time or two.”

Stiles explained that Deaton had recommended the wolves start to eat deer soon. And, Stiles himself, was running out of funds to feed his pack. Isaac agreed to find a suitable stag for the wolves and earn their favor.

Allison perked up at the talk of hunting and promptly fell to the floor with a clatter. She sleepily mumbled that she wanted to go too, keep her bow skills at the top of her game. They could make it a competition. Stiles didn't care who went really, but he supposed his wolves were probably less than friendly with her too, if they can read people as well as he thinks they can. The remaining werewolves woke with the commotion, Erica loudly complaining about the time.

Out of politeness, Stiles offered the fresh cup to Allison, who joined Isaac at the counter, and continued to make his fourth cup that morning.

***

It was decided that while Isaac and Allison hunt, Erica, Boyd, and Peter would continue to find the Alpha Pack’s temporary home in Beacon Hills. This wasn't a problem that would go away on its own, as Peter had reminded everyone, and the contacts he visited last night gave him some promising leads.

Derek reluctantly volunteered to take Stiles home. There were several groans of protests to the proclamation. But Stiles held up a hand and insisted, “He's my dad.” Scott said he would tag along until he had to run off to work. The three discussed possibly letting the Sheriff in on the whole werewolf secret. Stiles agreed, if his dad was in a listening mood.

“Come on little wolfies! It's time to face the music…” Stiles called with false bravado. He had finally turned his phone back on, and while he had a lot of missed calls and texts, Derek actually had more from Jennifer the night before.

“She's persistent.” Stiles commented as he peered over at the alpha's screen. Derek only frowned in response.

Scott grumbled as he made his way to the door, “You know I'm not your little wolfie! I'm a big scary werewolf!” He attempted lamely as a joke.

Derek, Stiles, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all stared at him from the entryway. “You know I was referring to the actual wolves, right?”Stiles said slowly, as if he was concerned for his friend's well being.

“Oh! Well they're, like, huskies, right? I'm actually part wolf…” Scott started to defend. And, he wants to be a vet!

“I bit the wrong one!” Peter announced from the stairs.

“Come on, let's go, Nymers, don't forget your shirt, you'll be whining all night.” Stiles said as he ignored Scott's ignorance.

“Use your nose, man!” Erica punched Scott playfully in the arm.

“They are wolves, he found wolf pups in the forest, Scott,” Isaac tried to clear up the confusion on Scott's face.

“It's okay, hon,” Allison patted his shoulder reassuringly.

***

Stiles was apprehensive, to say the least. He spent the drive home going through possible scenarios. Should he answer the door alone? Maybe Scott should come in? He listened to his voicemails. The Sheriff had started off angry and threatening, but the messages quickly turned apologetic, begging for Stiles to come home. Then, those were replaced with drunken, slurred messages that were almost incoherent.

Stiles opted to go in alone. From the sounds of things, his father wouldn't be capable of the big reveal yet. Derek promised to stay close by if things turned ugly.

“Dad.” He called. “I'm home, we… we need to talk.” His pups went upstairs.

His father must have fallen asleep at the table. There was an empty whiskey tumbler and a photo of himself with Stiles’s mother laying next to him. That photo would forever be ruined with tear marks. Stiles placed a hesitant hand on his dad's arm.

“Dad? It's time to get up. Dad!” He added, a little louder.

The Sheriff jumped. “Huhhh…gah.” His ability to speak wasn't quite with him yet.

“Dad. We need to talk.” Stiles said firmly. “Are you okay?”

“Ah…yeah, son. You came back?!” He questioned tentatively.

“Well, I'm not eighteen yet,” he reminded, a bit harsher than he intended. “I mean, I live here…. With you.”

“Son…”

“Why aren't you at work? You already missed a lot.” Stiles asked with some dread.

“I'm on temporary leave, it's paid, thankfully. But the investigation into our serial killer is on-going. You're not entirely ruled out, they just don't have enough evidence to charge you, or anyone else at the moment. The FBI might be brought in soon…” He sounded dejected, rubbing a kink in his neck.

“Oh! Sorry dad. I know this sucks for you too…” Stiles put his head in his hand, feeling a headache coming on.

“I…we…your mother would hate the way I've been treating you.” His father decided this needed to be said. “I'm sorry too. And we are going to work on this, because, Son, I barely speak to my dad, and that is not the relationship I want us to have.”

“Yeah, I know, thanks Dad.” They half hugged reaching across the table.

His dad looked him in the eye and waited for his son to continue. His boy will talk to fill the silence.

“Listen, I know you want to know everything I know, and I do know stuff, and I want to tell you.” Stiles started to ramble. “And I will! Once you’re a bit less hungover and I think you can handle it. It involves more than just me though, I'm going to ask Scott to show you and Derek…”

“Hale!” The sheriff interrupted. “What are you doing…”

“Dad. It's important. It's not my secret, it's theirs and it's a long story.” Stiles jumped in.

“Okay, okay Son...the station has an APB out for his car. You were last seen getting in it, after all.” His dad said with a bit of anger seeping in at the thought.

Their was a loud bang from upstairs, “probably just the DOGS.” Stiles put extra emphasis on the last word. He craned his head to peer out the kitchen window, and, yes, that was the black Camero, still parked across the street. Great.

“Yeah, you're really good with them. Where did you find them, again?” His dad asked hoping to keep the conversation friendly.

“Ahh that's a long story too.” Stiles squirmed in his seat as he tried to come up with a way to say the one thing he needed to, this one answer that could break this temporary truce between them. “I didn't kill any of those people, Dad. Do you believe me?” He managed in a small voice.

The sheriff tilted his son’s chin up. “I'm sorry I doubted you, Stiles. Yes, I… I believe you.”

The smile on Stiles's face was blinding.

“Now, Parrish is going to sneak over some files for me around noon. We need to find the culprit.” His dad's voice was falsely cheery, “and, I need a shower.”

“I'll make breakfast, then.”

***

Stiles piled food on two plates, and made his way upstairs before his dad could come down. When he opened his bedroom door, he was greeted with Derek and Scott glaring daggers at each other. Scott was holding up some folders in a defensive stance.

“I brought breakfast.” Stiles placed the plates of bacon and cheesy eggs on his desk. “What is the fight about?”

“Scott!” Derek hissed.

“Why do you have a folder with all this personal information on my boss?” Scott asked Stiles instead.

“Hemmm, that was definitely in the box under my bed?” Stiles indicated the statement was more of a 'how the hell did you get it?’ question with his inflection.

Scott didn't even attempt to hid the fact that he was snooping. “Do you really think he is the Darach?”

“I don't know…maybe.” Stiles said. “He isn't very helpful, and enjoys being cryptic. I have to go back down stairs. I think you can both go when you're done eating. I'll try to have the APB called off your car, but, man, you have to move it before Parrish stops by or, you know, my dad steps outside,” He said to the alpha.

“Stiles, I…” Derek didn't know what to say. He looked like the thought of leaving was causing him pain.

The shower water shut off.

“Listen, I'm almost out of dog food and close to broke, so I'll be by soon to pick up the venison,” Stiles said with a shrug, “We can talk then.” He gave the puppies some love before he went back to the kitchen to have breakfast with his dad at the dining room table for the first time that month.

***

Several hours later there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was Parrish, Stiles allowed his father to answer it.

He jumped when a female voice called his name.

Lydia and Danny had ‘stopped by to see how he was doing.’ Or, so they told the Sheriff. The two joined Stiles in the living room and didn't bother keeping their voices down when discussing who the real killer could be. It was obvious to the Sheriff that they had no doubt that Stiles was innocent, and they were helping to clear his name. Danny came along because he has excellent hacking skills that could be useful, but he also wanted to tell Stiles more about his friend Kyle, the 4th victim. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the concept that he was gone and as Stiles had lost Heather, he thought they could chat. Danny told him how he was just brought in on what was really going on when Stiles was arrested. He just thought Derek was Jackson’s hot older friend and that everyone kind of gathered there because of the lack of adult supervision. If Stiles's father was listening in, this was probably not helping Derek's case any, but Stiles appreciated the honesty from Danny. Danny asked him if he would like to join his friends at the Jungle next Friday. Lydia coughed, ‘pack night!’ Stiles smiled at Danny and said he would love to go, to Lydia's obvious disappointment.

While the sheriff never quite joined his son’s friends in the living room, he found plenty of reasons to continue walking by and every once in awhile he would question their terminology. “Sacrifices? Really?” Or, “What is a darach?” His son just said it was a theory they were working on.

The trio continued to research until Lydia came across something that might just be the answer they needed.

“Stiles! Look at this!” She held up the book she was translating to show Stiles and Danny a Celtic symbol. It was made up of four connecting circles forming one in the center.

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “It's cool looking? You thinking about getting a tattoo too?”

“No idiot! The circles have meanings. This one,” she pointed to the left one, “means ‘healers’, this one says ‘virgins, and this is ‘warriors’, and ‘philosophers’ and the center says ‘guardians’.” She huffed.

Stiles still wasn't following, so he looked to Danny, who appeared just as clueless.

“It could be the pattern we were looking for. This fivefold knot, as it's called, is a Celtic symbol. Sometimes it represents patterns in nature, like the phases of the moon. It's a powerful symbol and if the darach was looking to gain power with sacrifices, this could be her plan.” Stiles nodded and she continued, “Look, we know we had three healers. Are the other victims in any of the categories?”

“Harris could be a philosopher… as a teacher, same thing for the music instructor.” Stiles volunteered.

“I'm not sure... Kyle was the 4th victim so maybe he relates to them, but he wasn't a teacher. He just joined the army!” Danny chimed in.

“Hemmm, Harris was in the military, I've spent enough time in detention to know exactly what is on his desk, and he had his former Sergeant name plaque.” Stiles added.

“I think Kyle and the music instructor were friendly, there is a chance it could have been because of shared interest in serving our country.” Danny supplied.

“Hemmm, maybe if we could get our hand on his file?” Lydia asked, tilting her head towards Stiles’ dad.

A knock on the door prevented them from asking. This time it was Deputy Parrish. He seemed a little unsure of himself, bringing the files here could be risky. But he quickly relaxed at the site of Lydia, greeting her first and failing to introduce himself to Danny, who noticed the smile the deputy had for his best friend's girlfriend and scooted closer to her in protection. The sheriff and the deputy joined the teens in the living room. Everyone eyed each other with apprehension.

“Dad, hear me out, we have a theory,” Stiles started, then launched into a magical-free version of what they think is happening.

“So we’re looking for a nut job who might be killing people as sacrifices for their gods?” The Sheriff summed up.

“Yeah, go with that.” Stiles smiled as his dad nodded thoughtfully with all the new information.

Parrish warned that he couldn't bring over any hard evidence. It would look like investigation tampering if the Sheriff or his son were anywhere near such items. He did bring the reports on the bodies, which were surprisingly helpful for the teens. Stiles' dad however, who had already viewed these reports, was more than a little disappointed in his deputy.

Lydia found herself sandwiched between Danny and Parrish, who were engaged in an unspoken battle of who could get closer to her until she jumped up and moved to join Stiles, muttering ‘boys’.

The files were very helpful. Turns out the music teacher was a weekend warrior, and was in the reserves, which meant that those three victims could be the guardians. But, as Lydia pointed out, ‘weekend warrior’ fit the warrior category perfectly.

The first three victims were the most difficult to place. Heather was the youngest, and probably a virgin, but Stiles wasn't positive. There was no way of knowing with the other two. That was until Stiles spotted a purity ring on the life guard in the crime scene photos the teens were mostly ignoring. Despite intimately scrounging the photos of the young college student, there was no way of telling if she fit the category. At least until, Stiles's dad piped up.

“We interviewed her friends and family, remember Parrish, she had a girlfriend. Said it was a somewhat new relationship. Could mean they haven't, you know…”

“Great! Dad, can we ask her? Do you…”

“We are not calling a victim’s loved one to ask if they were a virgin at the time of death!” The Sheriff declared.

“But…”

“No, Stiles,” his father sighed, “it's not professional and we don't want to be seen looking into this. I'm on leave and you're too close to the investigation. It could incriminate you further. For now we'll just have to assume she was. How would our perpetrator know their…ahh status, anyways?”

The teens eyed each other. Someone would do the digging.

“So, if we assume this crazy sacrifice theory is correct, that leaves us with six more victims to come? Who would be next?” Deputy Parrish asked.

“Well,” Lydia pointed to the book. “Let's say the warriors were done, the philosophers are the top circle and the guardian is the middle. I would think those are last.”

“So who is a philosopher?” Danny questioned.

“Teachers? Philosophy majors?” Stiles suggested.

“That's a lot of potential victims… we'll have to narrow it down.” The sheriff said to his son.

***

After the guests had gone home, Stiles made his way up to his room. On his desk were 30 cans of the best puppy chow on the market.


	11. Chapter 11

Sunday morning Stiles woke in his own bed with his pack of pups. He thought over how much had happened this past week, how much had changed. A week ago he was sure that all he needed was his three fluffy friends. He had considered his ten year friendship with Scott all but over. He had accepted that he was no longer wanted by the pack aside from gathering information for Lydia or Derek. He felt used and resentful. He feared that he might be replaced in the pack by Danny. He knew his dad's growing distrust was making the wedge between them larger. He thought the wedge had damaged their relationship beyond repair. He accepted all of these things and was okay with it because he had no other choice. That was a week ago now things had changed.

Now, he had been publicly arrested. He spent a night in jail! It was a small town, so the rumor about the Sheriff having to arrest his own son was bound to spread like wildfire. However, there was hope for salvaging his relationship with his dad, and that was worth it. He understood that while it hurt to be forgotten by the pack, it didn't seem intentional. How can everyone not realize the motor mouth of the group wasn't around he'll never know. But, it didn't feel as personal as it once did, an accident. Could he accept that? Accept the pack as his own? He thought about Derek taking him to the clearing just to talk. The alpha with a penchant for silence! He thought about Derek’s poor Alpha Pack Plan admission. Anger swelled at the thought. Who else had he told that plan too? Surely none of the werewolves aside from Peter. He trusted Stiles with the truth. He trusted Stiles enough to hand over his wolfsbane bullet! Stiles thought about sharing a bed with him, how content he had been. He remembered waking and finding his hurt hand pain free. He smiled at the thought of the alpha providing weeks’ worth of food for his pups. He felt his face blush at the thought. What did that mean? Mostly, however, he felt a balloon of hope swell inside and it was terrifying, because if anyone popped it…it would destroy him irrecoverably. Could he trust his friends and his father to keep their needles away?

He felt fragile. But, he also felt determined. He had a Darach to find and stop, a pack of alphas to remove from town, and his own name to clear. He can do this!

***

Stiles' dad lifted his groundation, and after Stiles had signed an affidavit stating he wouldn't leave the state, the APB was called off of Derek’s car. So to celebrate, after having breakfast with his father again, Stiles felt the need to take his beloved Jeep for a nice drive. Because he was concerned he might be a social pariah in town, Stiles decided to pack up the pups and head out to the campgrounds. The forest was oddly quiet, but the silence was welcomed. The now familiar paths were calming. The weather couldn't be more agreeable.

***

Stiles sent a text to Derek, letting him know he would stop by, and to make sure the betas processed that deer, because he would not stick around for all that blood.

He received a reply instantly saying: “About that… Meet at Hale house”

Could the surly wolf be more ominous?

***

The burnt out house in the middle of the preserve found itself playing host to the entire pack of werewolves, and their human companions. When Stiles and the little wolves joined the rest in the dark hollow of the former kitchen, he took a moment to take in their appearances. The weres all looked dirty and sweaty. Clothes were torn and scattered with blood from already healed wounds. Erica’s hair was a frizzy mess with a twig sticking out of it. Scott looked like he was still recovering from a black eye. Allison was fairly unharmed, but had a bow at the ready clutched at her side. Derek must have lost his shirt in their fray, because he was leaning up against the counter in nothing more that a pair of low-rising, slightly too tight, jeans. Stiles couldn't stop himself from ogling the older man’s physique.

“Oh my gods! What happened? Is everyone okay? Was this the alphas?” Stiles was a bit hysterical as he took in more and more damage on his friends.

“What? No, Stiles, it's Sunday, training day…that's why I wanted to go to the movies at one that one time, it'd be a good excuse to get out of this torture.” Scott said as if this was obvious.

Oh, of course. “I…I didn’t know. Do you always do it here?” Stiles questioned because he and his pups had frequented this place quite a lot when his Jeep wasn't an option.

“Not for a couple of weeks at least.” Erica stated, a little unsure of the reason behind the question.

“It was otherwise occupied,” Peter informed him with a wink.

“Yeah, your wolves’ smell is all over the yard.” Isaac added, as if he just realized.

“So everyone is okay?” Stiles asked again, eyeing his former best friend.

“Yeah, I'll heal. Someone was extra hard on me today.” Scott shot an accusing glare at the alpha. Stiles couldn't help the small smile as Derek’s eyebrows raised, clearly he wasn't sorry.

“Usually it's just the werewolves, it can get violent.” Derek supplied.

“Oh. How did hunting go yesterday? Who won?” Stiles asked Allison in as friendly of a voice as he could manage. Please don't pop my balloon, he thought desperately.

“Well, that's why we called everyone here. The forest is empty.” Allison answered.

“Isaac couldn't find a single deer!?” Stiles asked disbelieving.

Isaac explained to the group that there were almost no animals to be seen. It didn't seem like foul play, but more like they all just left. He offered a rabbit (so gross) to the pups, but the little guys turned up their nose at him, unimpressed.

“So you killed the last rabbit in the forest?” Lydia questioned.

“It has to be related to the darach, unbalancing nature and all that, it must be getting more powerful.” Stiles thought out loud.

No one disagreed. The pack changed and Boyd suggested everyone go out for lunch together.

***

Everyone went aside from Peter. Danny commented loudly on how Derek has never tagged along before. The thought made Stiles smile. The rowdy group headed to Sam’s diner, because they weren't going anywhere the pups weren't welcomed. To Stiles delight, he was treated the same from the friendly wait staff, if they thought him a mass murderer, they didn't show it.

Derek sat next to Stiles. They joked and laughed and enjoyed a lunch free from the constant talk of pending doom. It was nice. Stiles could get used to this. He felt even more on edge at the thought that this camaraderie might not be permanent. Was Stiles stopping himself from having this with his negative self doubts?

Sam took a break from his grill to greet his three favorite customers. He actually called them out on their wolfish appetite. Everyone froze and looked at him closely.

“He's human?” Allison questioned after he returned to work.

“Yeah, think so.” Derek said in response.

Before they went their separate ways, Derek pulled Stiles aside and offered to help with raising the young wolves in anyway he could. Meaning, should Stiles need it, his money would provide. It was a thoughtful gesture, and one Stiles couldn't afford not to accept. Derek was pleased, and asked if he could join them on their walk the next day. How could Stiles refuse? Derek was obviously in love with Brin. The curious pup was adorable, who wouldn't fall for him?

Lydia overheard this exchange and demanded she be allowed to take Stiles shopping. It was less than enjoyable.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by Splash_of_bi, thank you for your hard work! 8/22/17
> 
> As always thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

After hours of shopping, Stiles only had two new outfits. He wasn't sure how that happened, but neither outfit included a long sleeve plaid overshirt, or a comic book character. He was nervous about the following day. Lydia had called it a date several times. Stiles wasn't so sure.

He was on his way to drop Lydia off, when she suddenly stopped arguing with him on the matter. She asked him to turn right when he knew her house would be left. Dread seeped in with every wrong turn she asked him to take. They ended up parked in front of a small house in one of the less expensive neighborhoods. Stiles stopped Lydia from going in. He recognized the car in the driveway. It had the Beacon Hills High bumper sticker that many of the teachers sported, but it was unmistakably Mr. Westover’s beat up Pinto. It was a classic car, faded from the sun, and there was probably only one in town. He knew who the unfortunate victim would be.

“Lyds, there is probably a dead philosopher in there. Let's just anonymously call the station. From your phone.” Stiles added. “I can’t…. We need to leave.” He pleaded. As much as he wanted to search for clues first, it wasn't worth risking another night in jail or his father's disappointment.

Lydia took some convincing in her state of mind, she had one goal, and that was going inside that house. But Stiles was eventually able to convince her, mostly by driving away until she came to.

She did as he asked and called in a disturbance to that location on a pay phone at the corner gas station. Stiles even parked his infamous Jeep on the road to avoid cameras picking it up, in case the police decide to follow up on the anonymous tip. He told Lydia his suspicions that this was their history teacher. She simply said “philosopher.”

***

Stiles found his father rather upset once he finally made it home. Tara, one of the first deputies he had hired personally, had been found dead in her patrol car earlier in the evening too. Stiles had to sit down. He truly liked the deputy, she used to be a teacher and would often tutor Stiles while he waited at the station for his father back in his troubling middle school days. School’s intensity had increased dramatically from the transition from grade school. And she was really helpful in keeping him on track. She was a teacher before she gave in to the need to serve and protect. Wait, she was a teacher!

“Dad, was it… was it the same MO?” Stiles asked tensely.

“Yeah,” his dad replied. He had been drinking. But not enough to be drunk, and it looked as if he had stopped on his own. “Do you think it's a part of your sacrificing theory?” He sounded unsure. “Guardian? She was an officer of the law and guarded the town.”

“Maybe, but she also used to be a teacher, and tutored me,” Stiles reminded the older Stilinski.

The two stayed up late. Stiles's father shared several arrest stories involving Tara. Stiles gulped as he told his dad about his little detour on his way to Lydia's. He hoped his dad wouldn't be too mad. He wasn't. He found it unbelievably strange that Lydia felt the need to check on their history teacher. But he was actually glad that they reported the dispute he claimed to overhear anonymously.

It was late when Stiles made it to his room. He held Brin and Remus close as he fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

The next day was spent sharing group text messages among the pack. It felt nice to be included. Lydia's mom had a barely used teaching and administration degree. She had enjoyed most of her adult years being married to the very well off Mr. Martin, and had continued to enjoy herself, even without a steady income, once the divorce settlement came through. Most of the pack felt it was paramount they protect her. So, they all found excuses to hang around Lydia's house and stop her mother from leaving. Stiles shared his dad's words on Tara, suggesting she could be a guardian. He quickly agreed with everyone that it made more sense that she represented a philosopher given the state of Mr. Westover, which was confirmed on the nightly news. But, he suggested the last set of victims could be cops. He was never more glad that his father was currently on leave, and he hoped that would be enough to stop the onslaught.

As Stiles got ready for his outing, he refused to call it a ‘date’, he had a lot to consider. Mainly how to protect his father, should it come to that. He dressed in his new, tight fitted, light grey short sleeved tee and pants that ‘just made his butt look so good!’ Before he knew it, there was a tap at his window. The alpha wolf looked pretty much the same; tight dark clothes, leather jacket despite the heat, and a smile as he made his way over to pet Brin in greeting. He donned a backpack, which was new.

Stiles went downstairs and shouted to his dad that he was taking the puppies for a walk in the woods. He was out the backdoor before his father could protest.

***

It turns out the backpack carried trail mix, water bottles, and sandwiches. It was a beautiful day and the human, not-quite human, and wolves set off on a new path that Stiles had never noticed. It led to the same clearing they had driven to that one time, although coming from this direction, it would take much longer. Stiles was thankful for all the time he spent with his babies out here. He hadn't stumbled yet.

The afternoon was peaceful. Stiles had tried to talk about the recent victims and hypothesize who could be next. But the alpha with a soft spot for Brin, who was currently being carried, would continue to steer the conversation to more pleasant areas. The problem was, Derek barely talked. So sometimes they found themselves in comfortable silence until Stiles managed to break it with random facts about that type of tree or some pop culture reference.

Derek boldly broke one silent break as they got closer to the clearing. “Laura and I would come here when we were kids. Our mother would take all of us kids when we were younger, and we'd swim in the pond on hot days like today.” He started off tentatively. He continued, sharing family stories. Stiles was an excellent listener, piping in at all the right places to give the older man a chance to school his features. It was obvious he didn't share these stories often. Stiles felt privileged.

Once the trees broke, revealing the clearing, the puppies became overly excited at the familiarity, pouncing and frolicking happily. The two bipeds sat side by side on the world’s softest grass while Derek passed the teen a water bottle and sandwich. It was the best roast beef Stiles had ever had. Stiles gave his companion a break from sharing and talked about his mom instead. He was eight when she died. Scott knew her, but not too well as they had met only two years prior, and she was sick for the majority of them. Most of their friendship was formed in the McCall’s backyard. His dad didn't like talking about her much, and Stiles had grew to accept the silence. It was a welcomed change talking about what little he remembered of her prior to her diagnosis.

The two basked in the sun a little while longer until Remus tuckered out and fell asleep in Stiles's lap. The wolf pups looked exhausted, and Stiles doubted they would make it home with Derek carrying all three. It turns out the alpha had planned on this too, because his car was parked a little ways up the wider trail which led back to the highway.

Derek asked Stiles if he could go for dessert, and pulled into an old fashioned ice cream parlor. It was surrounded by the woods and empty aside from the single employee, who looked surprised by the fact that he had customers. The ice cream was homemade and fantastic. They had benches outside so they could sit with the dogs, and Derek had bought a plain vanilla scoop in a cup for all three, as well as one for himself. Stiles, meanwhile had a mound of different flavors with close to every topping they offered. He had a lot of new ones to try. Derek would periodically steal a bite, and was a big fan of the blood-orange sherbet, polishing it off. They were halfway through there treat when Nymeria's ears perked up. The other wolves and Derek's soon followed. Birds, which were severely scarce on their walk today through the quiet woods, were making a bit of a disturbance flying in from multiple directions. They seemed to be congregating in one location in the woods and all three full wolves were chomping at the bit to join them.

Before, they could head that way, a lady came jogging down the road in tears, as she held her phone out as if she was trying to get cell reception. “Oh thank…Derek?”

It was Jennifer, Stiles narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh! I'm so glad I ran into you! My car, it kind of quit on me just down the road. I thought I'd be stuck out here forever. Do you know anything about vehicles?” She asked Derek, completely ignoring Stiles. Derek sighed. He did know a little. He turned to Stiles and asked if he would mind if he went to go check it out. Stiles was still working on his ice cream, so he shook his head in response. His gut told him something was wrong.

Not long after the brunette disappeared with Stiles's date(?), Nymeria's whines and barks to get Stiles's attention had grown to the point where it couldn't be ignored. He stood and before he was able to stop them, all three wolves took off in the direction of the birds. It wasn't long before he found out what all the fuss was over. There was another body, presumably a teacher of some sort, killed with the threefold death. This one was found by his wolves, technically, but he doubted the police would take kindly to that excuse. He contemplated his options for a minute, but that was all it took. The birds scattered instantly in every direction, causing chaos as the wolves barked and growled, but before he knew what was happening, Stiles found himself being shoved up against a tree.

“You! You are ruining everything!” Jennifer screamed in his face as she held him with ease. She must possess superhuman qualities to maintain that hold with so little effort. “You're constantly where you shouldn't be. I need the alpha, and you're causing all this unwarranted suspicion. He knows about the sacrifices! You brat! But this interference ends now!” She threatened.

The wolves were all attempting to attack her but were running into some kind of force field. It was like an invisible barrier was keeping them out. Stiles looked to see if it could be mountain ash, but he didn't spot the familiar black powder and was fairly certain it wouldn't work on the natural wolves.

“I'm getting stronger, boy! They won't be able to break my protection spell.” The truly terrifying creature morphed from the beautiful young lady into the monster without skin and claw marks marring her twisted face. She was the darach!

“Run!” Stiles yelled. “Go find Der….” The darach held Stiles’ throat against the tree silencing him.

The wolves understood and with reluctance sprinted off to chase the alpha's scent.

Stiles struggled and pulled on her hand to no avail.

The darach produced a small, plain dagger, presumably the one she has been using in her killings. She tried to force it into Stiles's hand. But the stubborn boy refused to grab it. Protesting silently as he could barely manage to breathe with her hold. She settled for nicking his finger in an accidental fashion and pulling a hair from his head, she dropped the knife and place his hair on it with one hand while maintaining her grip on his throat with the other. Stiles was losing consciousness. He was just about to black out when he heard a mighty roar.

***

He came to, several minutes later cradled in the alpha's arms. He had three pink tongues licking him awake. Derek was clearly worried. Realization dawned on Stiles slowly.

“J..en...i…” Stiles struggled to talk. His throat was sore. She had done some damage.

“She got away… was that thing Jennifer? We were walking down the road and she tasered me!” Derek muttered.

“Yeah, she's… the darach.” He left off the ‘told you so.’ His voice still recovering, he spoke in barely a whisper.

“Sorry.” Derek sounded defeated.

Stiles sat up and tumbled ungracefully out of the older man's lap, petting his dogs to show his gratitude. He took in the scene.

“We… we need to leave. And, we need to get rid of this.” Stiles whispered and he hesitated to pick up the small weapon that had ended so many innocent lives. He looked at the latest victim. At least he didn't recognize this one. It didn't make the terrified face seared into Stiles’ brain any less traumatizing.

“Called Peter.” Derek said. “He has experience with getting rid of… bodies.” Of course, the creeper wolf would.

“We.. will his family still get his remains?” Stiles questioned voice low. This was crime scene tampering at it's finest. This could be really bad for Stiles, although it could be really bad either way. But no loved ones deserved to be without closure.

“I'll make sure they do.” Peter insisted as he glided out from between trees. “You’re…umm.. humanity is showing.” He pointed to Stiles' throat with a look of disgust and pity. Stile felt self conscious. Trying to block his throat from view but he was lacking his usual over shirt. Derek offered his leather jacket which didn't have a high collar, but as it was too large on the teen, it distracted some.

“You should let me take care of that as well,” Peter pointed to the knife. He was wearing latex gloves and produced several plastic bags. “And get those cute little evidence fur traps out of here!”

Derek escorted Stiles back to his car. They had an almost silent argument about going to the ER again. His throat was purple, clear thin finger marks curling on one side, and a thumb mark on the other. Stiles was adamant about never going to the ER again as he was arrested in front of the entire staff. Derek eventually gave in, but only if Stiles agreed to go the McCalls’ so the nurse could take a look.

Stiles sent his dad a quick text telling him he was at Scott's. They headed that way, texting the pack the new information as they went.

Only the guardians remained.


	13. Chapter 13

“Stiles wait,” The alpha stopped him from running up the front steps. “Your dad's inside.”

This made Stiles pause. Shit. He just got caught in a lie, again. And his neck! And his voice was still a little rough.

“Can you call Isaac out here?” Stiles asked Derek. But, Isaac, with his wolffish ears, heard and came jumping out of the upstairs guest bedroom window. His bedroom. That would be Isaac’s room now, after all.

“What do-?” Isaac saw Stiles neck and understood.

“Need one of your ridiculous scarfs.” Stiles whispered.

The curly haired wolf tried to protest, but Derek flashed his alpha eyes at him and Isaac started to untie it to hand it over, muttering about it smelling like the wolf puppies. Derek suggested they bring the Sheriff in on the werewolf secret, as he would have Melissa for support. Stiles agreed, but didn't want to arrive with Derek. One step at a time. The two werewolves disappeared in the upstairs window. Brin gave a bark of protest, because he couldn't follow.

Stiles held his breath and he walked inside without knocking.

“You’re at Scott's, huh?” the Sheriff said as a way of greeting. He was at the front door, did he see the exchange? “Where did you get that jacket? And what is on your neck?”

Stiles was striking out left and right. “Ahhh…”

“It's mine.” Scott said from the top of the stairs. “Man, took you long enough!”

“I was in the woods with the pups. We went pretty far, it took a while to get back,” Stiles quickly tried to cover.

“Why are you here dad?” Stiles asked, innocently, forcing his voice to sound normal.

“Well, I was here with Mel, when I got your text. I said to myself, it's funny that you claimed to be where I currently was, of all the places.” His voice sounded stern, but not angry, not yet.

“I…?” Stiles glanced at his phone. “Oh! I meant I was going to Scott's. I sent that right after he asked me to come over…typing error,” The guilt was readable on Stiles's face.

“Hem, well, you're in luck. I'm actually heading over to speak with Tara’s family. Her mom had to arrange a flight in and I volunteered to pick her up. It will save the station from sending a car, and as I'm on leave…least I could do, really.” He added somberly.

“Okay…. Dad, when you're done there. I need to talk to you, call me?”

“Yeah, sure, it could be a while, the trip to the airport is at least an hour maybe an hour and a half with this traffic.” He gestured to the clock. It was rush hour. “We need to talk, I've never seen Scott in that jacket, I doubt it would fit him. I'm thinking it’s Hales. Hale, who is in his twenties. When I call, I expect you to answer. Tell Scott not to cover for you, I know everything in this town and that kid couldn't lie if his life depended on it.”

“Okay…” it didn't sound like Stiles was in trouble, he wasn't going to argue how wrong his dad’s statement was. “Bye dad. Love you,” He added as an afterthought. All these murders, it's time they got back to saying those words.

“Love you too, son,” his father said, giving his son a swift pat on the back as he moved past.

***

Melissa examined Stiles’ neck. He was more than happy to return the scarf to its rightful owner. She thinks the bruising will go away in time, and with it his raspy voice. She recommended an ER visit. Stiles ignored her. She also recommended bringing his father into the loop. She gave him an ultimatum, if he doesn't tell him by this time next week, she would.

The pack gathered in the McCall living room. Stiles told his side of the story, not knowing exactly how the darach got away and let Derek chime in for that part. He pointedly didn't mention her getting the drop on him with the taser stick, so Stiles made sure the werewolves were properly informed.

“So, Jennifer is the darach! Stiles was right!” Jackson said in disbelief.

“He was just jealous though! Lucky guess!” Erica said in jest.

Jealous? Maybe…his wolves really didn't seem to like her, though… Jealous because she had her arms on his alpha? His… alpha….maybe…

Stiles was deep in contemplation, and didn't realize everyone was looking at him. “What?” He asked when he looked up.

“Uhh Isaac asked what's our plan to stop the darach from taking police officers. The station is kind of your area of expertise.” Allison supplied helpfully.

“Sorry. I was thinking. I think we should tell them, we'll tell my dad and maybe someone who is more involved at the moment, we could tell Parrish?” Stiles asked Lydia.

Lydia pursed her lips in thought. “Yeah that could work. When?”

“Well, they are dealing with losing a fellow officer, Tara. That's going to be a sore spot for a while. How about after the memorial? It's on Saturday night, they needed to give time for planning and for her family to come in.” Stiles supplied.

“That's a lot of time without them knowing they need to be on guard.” Scott doubted.

“We’re not even sure if they will be the victims for guardians. But we’ll keep our eyes on them.” Boyd said proudly.

“Isn't snooping from the shadows werewolf 101?” Stiles asked with a smile.

The group continued to discuss strategies for ensuring the safety of Beacon Hills’ finest. They all agreed to increase pack meetings at the loft to include Tuesdays and Thursdays until the whole Darach and Alpha pack mess was over. Stiles included. This would insure that everyone stayed on the same page. As an afterthought, Jackson told him he ran into an alpha while driving in town. A big, bald, beefy man who glared menacingly at him with red glowing eyes. He swears he didn't get a revenge spiral, but he might not have given him enough time because Jackson peeled out and doubled the speed limit, leaving the alpha behind.

Not that confirmation was necessary, but it seemed like the entire Hale pack was being targeted. Derek said Peter might know more on why exactly. The alpha's made a reputation for themselves, having the alpha from local packs kill their betas to join their pack. This simply wasn't an option. Stiles saw Allison eye Derek approvingly as he said that. Allison who had encouraged Derek to take his life should it come down to that! Allison who is a hunter who hunts werewolves and the alpha's are werewolves, deadly ones at that. Allison had been keeping her dad away from the town’s …issues, but with some persuasion from Stiles, she decided it was time to alert the hunter of the increase in alpha wolves in the area and discuss possible permanent solutions, should the need arise. Derek seemed unsure.

After their powwow, Stiles and Lydia went outside to give themselves the illusion of privacy. The werewolves could still listen in if they wanted. She commented on how nice he looks with Derek's jacket in clothes that actually fit and asked for the detail of his date, aside from the whole almost dying bit.

“It wasn't a date!” He whispered. “It was great though, I'm not sure, I just feel kind of complete with Derek around. The weather was great the wolves love the nature trails, it was really nice, even if the forest is oddly quiet with the lack of wildlife.” Stiles admitted. “I mean the darach, Jennifer, she was really powerful. She had this protective barrier and I was so scared. But, today was also probably the best day of my summer vacation, you know. I could get used to it.” He had a big grin on his face.

“You're cute together!” Lydia smiled back, “you should get used to it.”

“Oh my gods! Don't say that, they can hear you! I'm just saying it was a really nice day, it felt right being in the forest, it usually does, but today was something more, I guess.”

“Do you feel jittery?” Lydia asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I guess, I kinda do.” Stiles answered. His smile a permanent fixture on his face.

“Do you feel like you've been hit with electricity when you look at him, or think of him?”

Stiles thought. “…Maybe.”

“That's love, babe. Your falling in love.”

“Oh gods! Shhhhhh! They will hear you and your crazy claims!” Stiles whispered again.

Nymeria barked for Stiles’ attention. Remus was asleep, belly up, lying between Erica and Boyd. Brin was sleeping up in Scott’s room with the alpha who was still discussing fighting tactics with Scott.

The pups needed to go home. They had a long day too. Derek offered to drive them.

***

Stiles’ role in protecting the Sheriff’s station was fairly minimal, due to his inability to be close to the building without further damaging his reputation. His father came home late and they ended up not having their ‘talk’ until breakfast the next morning. Stiles worried that a turtle neck in the summer might be too much of a giveaway, so he attended breakfast wearing Isaac’s least favorite scarf. Stiles admitted that the jacket belong to Derek. His father was fairly relaxed in his line of questioning, and Stiles didn't have to admit to much more for the time being. He had really considered just telling his dad, without a werewolf to show for proof, but the opportunity just wasn't there. The Sheriff had several errands to take care of today in town. He was fully utilizing his leave to catch up on some important tasks. Stiles made sure visiting his heart doctor was one such task.

“Listen dad, all the stress I've put you through lately, it's worth a blood pressure check up!” Stiles tried to joke, but he was relatively serious. He fiddled the the scarf he borrowed from Isaac. How can he stand wearing these itchy things.

“Is the scarf a new fashion for you or you hiding hickeys?” His father questioned in lieu of answering. “Either way you should loose it, doesn't work for you kiddo.”.

Stiles turned beet red at that remark and dropped the push for his dad's doctor appointment, for the time being. Stiles's embarrassment was probably enough of a giveaway that he had yet to experience anything that led to such a need to hide his neck. Regardless, the sheriff allowed that to be the end of his interrogation of yesterday's odd behavior, and Stiles was more than happy to let it be.

***

The next time Stiles got an opportunity to see Derek was for Tuesday’s newly formed pack meeting. Stiles took his time getting dressed. The other outfit Lydia picked out was a white long sleeve that was tight enough to show off his growing biceps. He paired it with an almost black pair of jeans. His hair took almost 3 times as long for him to style than usual. All in all, he looked fantastic and was 30 minutes late.

He arrived with the pups in tow. As soon as they entered the stairwell however, the wolves took off at a run, barking madly. Nymeria dropped her favorite shirt in her desperation to reach the loft’s door. Stiles followed suit, panic settling in.

Upon entering Derek's residence, the source of the panic was blatantly obvious. What could very well easily be the entire alpha pack was present. Everyone appeared more than a little battle worn. Isaac was knocked unconsciousness. Scott was standing protectively in front of Allison, he was bleeding heavily. Erica and Boyd had one alpha twin pinned down. His brother looked like he wanted to help but he was occupied. He held one of Derek's arms back, the bald meaty alpha held the other one. Derek's head was down in shame or exhaustion, Stiles wasn't sure. His chest was almost bare, his shirt hung off in tatters. He too looked like he was healing slowly.

Jackson's head could be seen from behind the kitchen island. Stiles hoped it was connected to his body and he was simply knocked out, but it's hard to tell at the angle he is at, and the amount of blood covering his face was unnatural.

Lydia, Danny, and Peter were all nowhere to be found. Hopefully this was a good thing, but given the situation, Stiles wasn't so sure. Brin, Remus, and Nymeria all went to attack the oldest alpha in the room. He was wearing sunglasses that made him appear blind, and he was also the only werewolf not shifted. Brin never made it to the attack. The female alpha kicked him with her bare feet, claws were sharp on each toe. Brin hit the wall and landed with a soft thud, unmoving. Remus halted in his onslaught on the alpha of alphas and immediately went to Brin’s side, whining softly.

“Brin!” Derek and Stiles said in unison. Derek fought violently against his captors.

The female alpha was about to send a kick Nymeria's way when the lights flickered as a bolt of lightning flashed and thunder boomed, silencing everyone except Nymeria's growls. Rain started to pour outside so fiercely and heavily, the drops slamming into the loft’s window sounded deafening to Stiles’s ears. He couldn't imagine what it was like for the weres.

“Kali, grab him,” The older alpha said lazily. She twisted around so quickly and had Stiles’s arms pinned to his sides. There was no point in struggling, he could barely move. Nymeria changed her target to the brunette alpha.

“No. Go to Brin,” Stiles ordered. Nymeria obeyed immediately.

“We are here for a message today. No one need die…yet.” The non-shifted alpha announced. He then turned to Derek. “I've marked your pack, I need to mark you.” He sharpened a single clawed finger.

“Wait.” Stiles interrupted. “I wasn’t… I'm not sure…why did you mark me?” He yelled trying to draw attention away from the defeated alpha being held in place by two strong werewolves one on each side.

“What do you mean, why?” The oldest alpha seemed more than willing to prolong this exchange to satisfy the boy’s curiosity.

“I just…why me? I'm not even sure if I'm pack now, and I definitely wasn't then…the wolves mother!” He spat angrily. “Why'd she have to die?” Stiles wasn't sure exactly what he could accomplish buying time, but it was worth a shot if the alpha pack’s plan for Derek was lethal. Derek whined at Stiles saying he wasn't pack, again.

“Not pack? You aren't the emissary?” The alpha's eyes flashed red as he peered behind his sunglasses, giving Stiles a measuring look. It sent a chill down his spine.

“Not pack? Well, that is…interesting.” He said. Coming closer to Stiles. “You don't know what you're capable of do you?” The oldest alpha questioned as he reached a finger to stroke Stiles face gingerly.

Stiles turned his head away but refused to answer.

“This is interesting news, indeed. But, “ he turned on the spot and strode back over to Derek with precision you wouldn't expect from a person who appears to be blind. “Derek Hale, your mother failed to stand by me, failed to support my goal of reaching a treaty with the hunters. With Gerard.” He spat the name as if it was poison just to say. “That exchange cost me my eyes! And, where was your mother? The Hale pack will pay.” And, he leaned in and tortuously slow scratched a deep gash of a spiral in the pinned alpha's chest.


	14. Chapter 14

“Derek Hale, your mother failed to stand by me, failed to support my goal of reaching a treaty with the hunters, with Gerard.” He spat the name as if it was poison just to say. “That exchange cost me my eyes! And where was your mother? The Hale pack will pay,” he leaned in and tortuously slow scratched a deep gash in the shape of a spiral in the pinned alpha's chest.

“Not only did your mother fail to warn us of the hunter’s assault at the peace summit, but you allowed him to live, YOU BIT GERARD!” Angry red eyes blazed at Derek. The old alpha held up an entire hand of claws and plunged it deep in the younger were’s stomach, blood gushed, instantly soaking his lower half. Derek's eyes flickered red.

The Alpha of Alphas snapped his fingers and immediately the three free alphas joined his side as they made their way out the door. The oldest alpha stopped and stared at Boyd who, with Erica’s assistance, held the captured twin down on the ground. The blind alpha shifted. His face was almost grey. Large eyebrows framed his red eyes which burned menacingly and his elongated fangs parted as he roared an earth shattering roar. Boyd trembled. It was all the pinned twin needed to free himself, he joined his alpha at the door and the pack was gone before anyone could move.

Both Derek and Stiles made a beeline for the baby wolves. Derek struggled with his open wounds and still healing arm. Brin had remained motionless from the moment he hit the wall. Stiles was shaking.

“I can hear his heartbeat.” The blood soaked alpha scooped up the smallest wolf in an attempt to take his pain. The dark wolf was already on Stiles’ lap however, and the results had Stiles and Derek almost chest to chest as both men held an unmoving baby wolf on their knees. Once black veins started to travel up the alpha's arm, Derek winced in pain. It didn't go unnoticed. Stiles immediately lifted the bloody wolf’s hand off the small pup.

“Derek! You're hurt too. You need to heal yourself.” Stiles said as he placed a hand on the alpha's chest examining the cut. “Why are you taking so long to heal?” Derek was covered in blood. How had he not passed out yet?

“Alpha made wounds take more time.” He supplied, then he searched little Brin’s body for possible cuts from those sharp toes. He seemed cut free, but it was hard to tell with all the blood everywhere. Stiles was now covered in it too.

“Will you be okay, though?” Stiles's voice was small. He looked up into the alpha's eyes, taking in how beautiful they truly were, a hazel green. His gaze was searching.

Derek stared back at the round shining orbs, and without thought he reached over and wiped a stray tear from the younger man’s face, smearing blood on his cheek in the process. The two continued to look almost hypnotically into each other's eyes, searching for comfort. Without knowing who actually initiated it, the distance between them lessened as their mouths met for the first time. The kiss was experimental, soft at first and as it grew deeper teeth clashed as tongues battled. Stiles was inexperienced and allowed the alpha to win the battle and opened up invitingly. They continued to kiss heavily, completely unaware of their surroundings until they were interrupted by a slow and loud clapping.

The pair pulled apart, Derek had Stiles’s bottom lip in between his teeth causing them to swell further. They looked up to see Peter walking down the spiral staircase, a dramatic clap with each step.

“Well, I am so happy for you two, truly, but this is hardly the time.” Peter said, holding his arms out to indicate the mess. The tan couches were blood stained, one was possibly broken by the angle it laid. The end and coffee tables were all smashed. There were several large blood spots seeping into the hardwood, the largest coming from the alpha himself. Blood pooled all around him. Stiles and the wolves were covered in it as well. Stiles had two blood smeared handprints on his cheeks and the back of his neck, courteous of the kiss. His lips were swollen, cheeks rosy. Derek looked pale and disheveled and…sated.

Isaac was still out cold. Scott was kneeling next to him, but staring at Stiles and Derek with wide, disbelieving eyes. Allison had a first aid kit out and was patching up a small scratch on her arm. Erica, Lydia, and Boyd all had an extremely worse for wear Jackson supported against the kitchen counter. Thankfully, his head was attached, although he was giving Derek a run for his money in the blood soaked department. Peter looked impeccable and completely unscathed and a shaking Danny appeared behind him on the stairwell.

“Is Isaac okay?” The alpha asked.

“…He’s not dead yet.” Scott replied after a minute. “Just took a hard hit from that big one.” He was still staring at his former best friend and alpha, shocked.

Stiles returned his attention to Brin, “I think I should take him to Deaton, he doesn't have super heal…” Brin gave a soft murmur and his eyes fluttered. He looked like he might be sick soon. He was unwilling to be put down, protesting with a yip as Stiles tried to test his walking. Derek cradled the young wolf protectively, covering him in more of his own blood.

Stiles looked over both Remus and Nymeria, and declared them both okay.

***

Stiles found himself sitting in Deaton’s examination room, still sporting the alpha's blood. The rain outside had lessened to a light drizzle. It was an after-hours emergency visit with the vet, who was insisting for the fifth time that his baby wolf would be okay. Brin had suffered a concussion. Derek took care of the after-hours emergency bill, which was outrageous, and brought the two back to the loft, which was actually looking pretty clean, albeit, heavily lacking furniture. Boyd and Jackson had apparently done most of the table smashing, with their bodies, and their resentfulness for the furniture caused what could have been salvageable to be thrown out along side the truly irrecoverable pieces.

While they were gone, Isaac had woken up. Allison, in particular, looked extremely pleased with this turn of events. Jackson had showered and everyone else had cleaned themselves up to be more presentable. The air was full of tension, but it quickly fell away to relief when the pair announced that Brin would be okay.

They would all be okay, for now.

***

After Isaac’s complaint that Stiles smelled too much like his alpha, Stiles took a few minutes to himself to clean up. He traced the bloody fingerprints on his cheek as he stared into the mirror in the bathroom. An unfamiliar sensation pooled in his gut. Longing? Excitement? Hope? He wasn't quite sure but some new combination of all three mixed with the eerie feeling of being scrutinized and found wanted. He had yet to talk about the kiss, Derek was almost silent at the vet’s. He had a bandaged torso and a healing arm to concentrate on, so Stiles understood. But, he had questions… burning questions.

After Stiles was clean, Derek took a much needed shower. And than Stiles had given the young wolves a bath too. The two still hadn't talked about the intimate interaction.

While Stiles was busy bathing the pups, the rest ordered the world’s largest late night breakfast take out from the local dinner. The midnight hours were spent recapping and eating. Someone had retrieved Nymeria's shirt and she was playing tug of war with Remus. Derek held Brin protectively. Stiles was able to get the full story as everyone shared their part in the night’s events.

While the werewolves sensed the intruders, they had little time to prepare. Peter insisted the three humans head upstairs to wait it out, but Lydia and Allison refused to leave their boyfriends’ side. Peter put up almost no fight with Allison (a sarcastic reply about the loss of a hunter being just so tragic), but hauled Lydia over his shoulder with a nod to Jackson, promising her safety. Jackson’s intense condition was a result of attacking any alpha who dared get too close to the stairs. Derek had attempted to keep things civil, but Isaac was immediately thrown so hard against the brick wall he actually caused some bricks to crumple. He passed out. Erica and Boyd tried to defend his honor by attacking the hulking mass of the twin alphas’ combined form. There were several bodies being tossed in this exchange, including Scott’s and Jackson’s. Eventually the betas were able to take down the giant super twin, and the two separated. Boyd pinned one with Erica's help. But, Scott took several deep slashes from the other's claws as a result.

Derek took on the bald and the female alpha together. The uneven match resulted in little damage to both parties. The leader of the alphas roared, and the larger one twisted Derek's arm behind him, and there was a sickening crack. The distraction was enough. The free twin stopped his revenge on Scott and quickly grabbed the fallen alpha's remaining arm. The female took the opportunity to make one more attempt for the stairs. Jackson was there to intercept, blood pouring from the head wound, a result of when he crashed through the coffee table. Jackson was sent flying through the air, resulting in his unconscious form lying on the kitchen floor.

Stiles addressed Peter, “And, tell me, what action did you see from up there? While your alpha fought two against one?”

“Ah, well, I'm still recovering from, you know, that one time you all killed me.” Peter replied unashamed. “And I certainly don’t suffer from the same moral issues you teenagers seem to.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “Yes, but it's not like your death stuck…so, what do you know about the head alpha? He knew Talia, did you know him?”

“Ahh, yes, Deucalion. I recognized his scent.” Peter sighed, “I didn't know he… the alpha of alphas is the demon wolf himself...” In a more chipper tone he added, “gather around, little ones, gather around, its storytime with Uncle Pete.” Derek rolled his eyes, but everyone listened up.

Peter told them about how Deucalion had approached Talia about forming a treaty with the hunters. The emissary from several packs were going to work together to form a peace summit which would give packs rights for dealing with omegas in their territory. It would lessen the workload for the hunters in the area, and ensure safety for the wolves who operated well within the code. Talia said it sounded like a win-win increasing safety for both hunters and wolves alike.

“She naturally approached our emissary, Dr. Deaton, with this information.” Peter continued. “The cryptic vet did whatever it is he does, asked the gods for guidance? Read his tarot cards? Consulted tea leaves? But, ultimately, he decided this meeting wasn't worth the risk. He warned that Gerard Argent was not to be trusted.” He paused for dramatic effect. It was unnecessary. Everyone, Allison included, had a healthy fear of the geriatric hunter. “Well, the meeting took place and Deucalion lost his eyes. However, rumor has it the wolves took out every hunter there, except Gerard. Heavy casualties on both sides.”

“He talked about that, said the alphas walked right into the trap.” Allison admitted, a bit reluctantly.

“I would guess it was a trap from the beginning and the alphas who attended had no hope of the treaty they were clamoring for.” Peter agreed. “How Deucalion went from the man he once was to the alpha that murdered his own pack for power, though…. I don’t know. Never...trust a hunter.” He looked at Derek and then at Scott with those ending words.

***

Due to the late hour, the pack decided to stay the night, they rifled off texts to their parents all claiming to be at each other's houses. Stiles said he was staying at Danny’s, just in case his father was having dinner with Melissa. Isaac and Scott claimed Danny’s too for Stiles’s sake. The Mahealanis were not close to either parent, and the Sheriff had met Danny recently, so the story could be plausible.

Sleeping arrangements were interesting with the lack of furniture and Derek's general broodiness stopping him from owning enough soft pillows or blankets. The result was a pack pile on the alpha's bed. Everyone was intertwined with each other. The three actual wolves were in heaven, multiple hands petting and scratching affectionately. Derek and Stiles, however, had Brin to themselves at the top of the bed. He was basking in all the love and attention. Peter ascended the stairs, opting out of the bonding time.

***

The group woke in the morning hours to a phone that would not stop ringing. It was Scott's. After the fifth call, the crooked jawed beta crawled his way out of bed, successfully waking anyone who had managed to sleep through the blaring ringtone.

“ ‘Ello?” Scott managed, groggily.

“Is this Scott McCall?” The voice was loud and authoritative, everyone could hear, even without the werewolf ears. “Hi. I'm Brian Karpatski, your mother's supervisor, we’ve been trying to get a hold of her for over three hours now. She missed her shift. It's an early morning one, it happens, but your mom has a flawless record. We were hoping to check in and make sure everything is okay.” Scott was motionless. He didn't respond. “Scott…Scott?”

“Hi, I'm a friend, he wasn't home last night. We're going to head that way and check on her and call you back, is this number okay to call on?” Stiles grabbed the phone from his statue of a friend to respond.

“Yes, ask for me, Brian.”

“Yes, we will call either way. Thank you.”

Scott still hadn't moved. Derek jumped to attention, using his alpha voice to bark out orders. Isaac, Scott, Allison, and Stiles would visit the McCalls and Stiles’s just in case. And if they still had no lead, they would return here. Jackson and Boyd would start running the patrol paths in the woods to try and catch her scent. Danny would hack into the red light cameras and see if he can pick out her car heading home from work the night before, and if that was a no go, he would hack the hospital security cameras. Lydia and Erica were going to drive around town. Erica would see if she could pick up on her scent. They planned on making their way to the hospital and then to take the path that led back to the McCalls. Hopefully, catching any detours she may have taken. Derek was going to remain here, with Danny and the wolves for their protection, but also, Derek wasn’t fully healed. Neither was Scott, but he wasn't willing to sit this out, for obvious reasons.

Stiles drove. Scott was still in shock next to Allison in the backseat. He hadn't said a word. Isaac held his head out the window trying to pick up his adoptive mother's scent.

***

The four made it to Scott's in record time. Scott was out of the Jeep and in his mother's room before Stiles could make it up the front steps. Scott let out a roar like no other, a roar that promised that the cause of his distress would pay.


	15. Chapter 15

Stiles and Allison quickly joined the werewolves in Mrs. McCall’s room. The room looked like a typical break-in scene from a movie. Furniture was knocked over and the bed sheets appeared torn. Fortunately, there was no blood or a body. Scott had shifted and could very well be the cause of the torn sheets. He was visibly angry and quickly losing control. On instinct, Stiles pushed Allison behind himself protectively. The action caused Scott to faulter in his motion to pick up and toss the comfortable looking chair in the corner of the room. He took several deep breaths until he was able to shift back to almost human. His eyes remained a glowing amber. He reached out a shaky hand for Allison, his anchor.

Isaac peered out from the en-suite bathroom door, “In here.”

The bathroom was in considerably better shape than the bedroom, clean. It also was body free. But, the reason behind Scott's wolfy tantrum was apparent. On the mirror, written in what Stiles could only assume was Mrs. McCall’s lipstick was one word: Guardian.

The blood drained from Stiles’s face. He sat down on the edge of the bath tub for support. The darach, Jennifer, had gotten Scott’s mom! The wonderful lady who allowed Stiles to bake her family's secret Christmas cookies with her every holiday. The lady who held his other hand when he broke his arm and was having a cast put on. The lady who stepped up and hugged him tight once his own mother was no longer capable. His thoughts were interrupted by a glass shattering sound.

Stiles looked up at the now broken word on the spider cracked mirror. Scott held a bloody hand over the sink allowing Allison to run water over it. Isaac seemed a bit out of place in the cramped space.

“Text the pack, and call Derek. Everyone should check on their parents.” Stiles said to Isaac. He seemed relieved to have a reason to exit the bathroom. “Scott, buddy, I know you're mad, we all are. But she gave us a warning, which is new. I think we have time to find her and save her. How pissed will she be when she sees this room…” Stiles said in as positive of a tone as he could possibly manage.

“… A warning?” Scott spat angrily. “This isn't a warning! She’s playing with you, you pissed her off, and she's getting her revenge!”

Stiles has never seen such a look of hurt and pain maliciously directed at him from his former best friend before. He didn't have anything to say to that.

Scott stood and came dangerously close to Stiles. “This is your fault!” He roared. Stiles flinched, realizing he was trapped in the bathroom; the only way out was on the other side of the angry werewolf. His eyes were golden once again, claws extended threateningly.

“…I’m sorry.” Stiles voice was small, was this his fault? He loves Melissa, considers her family. And despite their current issues, he loves Scott too and would never wish the loss of his mother. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. It's hard losing a parent.

Allison placed a calming hand on Scott's arm and encouraged him to move so Stiles could pass. “We all have to check on our parents, why don't you head to your house and I'll see if Lydia can pick us up and we can check her house and then mine. Erica will probably just run home and check on her own. We'll all meet back at Derek's and make a plan to save Melissa,” Allison said to Stiles.

Stiles turned to face Scott after he had made it to the door safely. He didn't know what to say. Scott had his face buried in Allison's shoulder, shaking from crying.

***

With the new driving arrangements set, Stiles took off to his own home to check on his dad, alone. It started to rain. His dad's squad car was in the driveway. Stiles threw the Jeep into park, and quickly exited the vehicle. He bolted into the house, throwing open the front door and screamed for his dad.

The Sheriff, panicked by his son's distress, came running down the stairs with only a partially shaven face. There was white shaving cream dripping onto the floor, Stilinski’s eyes a wild mess searching for the danger.

Stiles ran right up to him and hugged him. It took only a second for his father to join in the hug, squeezing tightly.

“Are you okay, son?” His dad asked, concerned.

“I… it's Melissa she was taken by the darach. She's going to be a sacrifice. Scott, he is so… Dad! I need you to believe me, because we need your help….” Stiles tried to continue his rambling, but his father cut him off.

“I was actually heading to the hospital, a friend of Mel’s said she saw the nurse let someone into her car when leaving the hospital last night, and she didn't come into work today. I sent Parrish over to her house, but he said no one answered. I thought about calling Scott and see if he knew where she could be, I know you guys were at Danny's last night, though. I don't want to panic Scott yet, if I can help it. I'm going to head to the hospital and see if they'll let me see the security tapes from the parking lot, I'm off duty obviously, so they could refuse. The department can't do anything yet. But, Parrish has organized a few guys to help start a search if it comes down to that, and they're looking for her car, unofficially.” His dad said, stating the facts. “So, why do you think she would be a part of the serial killer’s victims? What did you call it, a darach?”

Stiles launched into his explanation. He told his dad that they knew who the darach was and she is not to be trusted. He gave a brief description of Jennifer. He told him that she took Melissa because she is Scott and Isaac's guardian. That she might be targeting the pack, or more specifically the pack’s parents. He told his dad about werewolves and magic and that the darach has at least two forms. Stiles explained what he saw at the hospital the night the doctors were murdered. He told his dad everything as quickly as he could.

“So, dad, you need to come to the loft with me, Derek’s loft, he's the alpha, we need your help and you could be a target, I need to keep you safe.” Stiles’s dad looked more and more disbelieving the longer Stiles talked.

“Son?” He questioned. “I… I need to go to the hospital and talk to the nurses and see what they know, maybe see this person who went home with Melissa. Every minute counts…” The sheriff spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a small child. “I'm not…. I thought you were done with the lies? I thought we were past this…”

“Dad! Please believe me, Melissa’s bathroom mirror, it has to be the darach. We need your help!” Stiles pleaded. “I can't…I can't lose you, too, dad, please.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Son, this is no time for stories, or to indulge your belief in sacrificial theories, Mel is missing and the first 24 hours could mean the difference between life or death. I'm going to the hospital. I'll call Scott soon and let him know what is going on once I have a better idea myself.” His father made his way back up to his bathroom to quickly finish his shave.

Stiles was frozen. His dad didn't believe him, again. Scott blamed him. The darach had Melissa. He needed a plan, he needed a course of action that would keep his distrusting father safe and also rescue his former best friend's mother. How could he protect his dad and help Scott at the same time? His father was stubbornly refusing to cooperate. Stiles heard the buzzing from upstairs cease.

He stopped his dad on the stairs. “Wait!” He shouted as he ran up into his room. Nymeria had her shirt at the loft. So stiles dug through his laundry basket and pulled out his bottom most, wrinkled plaid shirt, and with surprising strength, ripped a strip off.

“You don't have to believe me, dad. I'll show you later, but please, whatever you do, do not take this off.” He tied the piece of fabric on his father's arm like a bracelet. Triple knotted for security.

His dad raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest. “Love you son,” The Sheriff said, still giving his son a concerned look.

“Love you too Dad, stay safe.”

***

Stiles hadn't heard from the pack yet, so he proceeded to head to the loft after he sent a quick text saying his dad was okay for now. He made sure to throw the remaining part of the plaid shirt in the cab of the Jeep. The rainstorm blocked the sun, today was going to be grey.

The loft had surprisingly few occupants. Danny left to check on his parents. And, despite their plan to meet up, no one had come back here yet. Peter and Derek were playing with the pups. They both looked guilty with large smiles on their faces as Stiles walked in.

“No one else is back yet? Did anyone report their parents missing?” Stiles asked, checking his phone again.

“Lydia, Erica, Jackson, and Boyd all say their parents are home. The Whittemore’s invited Lydia's mom over for afternoon cocktails. Erica and Boyd don't want to leave their parents alone.” Derek supplied helpfully.

Just then several phones buzzed and they all got a message from Danny saying his parents are okay too and will also go to Jackson's house. Jackson and Danny are going to come back to the loft after. Stiles relayed the message so the wolves and werewolves could continue their game of tackle.

One phone buzzed several more times. Derek reluctantly got up to check it.

“Scott says Deaton has a plan.” The alpha announced. Several more buzzes, “and Chris Argent was taken. Guardian was spray painted on Allison's front door. No sign of a struggle.”

Wow. That's two. And, another warning.

“We don't actually have to rescue a hunter, do we?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Of course we do!” Stiles didn't give the alpha a chance to answer. “Especially if this is my fault! We have to find them!”

“How is this your fault.” Peter questioned.

Stiles didn't bother with a reply as Derek's phone buzzed once more.

“Change of plans, were all going to meet at the vet clinic in 3 hours.” Derek announced.

“What!? Why so long? Why the vets?” Stiles had a lot of questions.

“Dr. Deaton has to gather some supplies, but there is a way he can find their parents’ location. It's an ice bath ritual… Scott and Allison need to bring something to focus their attention on their parents.” Derek reread the message to make sure he got that right.

Stiles asked to borrow Peter’s computer and quickly started researching ‘ice bath rituals’. 3 hours later and his research led him to one conclusion. That ritual is way to risky. They could possibly open a door and let a darkness inside them or link themselves to a local magical tree! They could also die?! This seemed like a ridiculous plan. Why can't the werewolves just follow their noses? The thunder cracked outside reminding Stiles that scent would be difficult to follow in this weather.

***

Stiles drove his Jeep and the puppies. Derek and Peter took the Camaro. Assuming that Boyd and Erica were here, they were the last to arrive at the vet’s based on the cars in the lot.

Parrish’s squad car came speeding into the parking lot behind them. He exited the vehicle so quickly to round on Stiles’ driver side door. “Stiles! There you are!” He appeared out of breath yelling over the continued downpour. “It's your dad. He was looking into Mrs. Melissa McCall’s apparent disappearance, as you know.”

“My mom!” Scott and Lydia had jogged out of the building to see why Stiles brought a police officer with him.

“Yeah, turns out, there is video footage of your mom leaving the hospital with a younger looking woman. But they didn't make it far, we found her car behind some shrubbery near the east side of the preserve. It was empty. We were doing a grid sweep in the woods, a few off duty police officers and myself and your dad and even a couple of nurses, but he never reported back after the first sweep, your dad. I waited while the group continued, but as I grew more concerned I radioed a squad car to drop by your house just in case. His car is still parked on the side of the road with the other volunteers. And you weren't home, either. I had the patrol cars looking for both of you, off the books. I even tried calling Lydia.” He turned to the redhead, who flushed a bit at being called out. She had hit the ignore button earlier when she checked up on her mom and Allison’s parents.

Scott looked, if possible, even more devastated and wouldn't look Stiles in the eye.

Isaac came out and shouted for everyone to head into the clinic. “Even more of a reason to hurry! Come on, Deaton said this ice bath thing could take hours!” He yelled from the doorway, staying dry.

Allison who had silent tears rolling down her face joined Scott with an umbrella and asked, “Stiles, do you have anything of your dad's that will work?”

Parrish looked intrigued by the statement.

“Sorry…Stiles” Derek reached for him, but pulled back. He looked like he doubted himself. Doubted his ability to ensure no harm would come to his pack members.

Stiles however actually smiled. Everyone gave him odd looks. “This is a good thing! It's a great thing actually.”

Parrish was visibly livid with the remark. Scott looked up concerned. Everyone was starting to shake with how much they were getting rained on, and no one seemed happy by Stiles's proclamation.

“I had a feeling, I just knew it was going to be my dad. He wouldn't come with me to the loft.” Stiles explained. “I tied a piece of my shirt around his wrist and made him promise me he wouldn't take it off. I just knew…” he said to himself shaking his head. “Nymeria can find him even in the rain.” Stiles declared.

“Stiles it's impossible, we can’t keep the scent, it's fading. This rain is relentless.” Scott said exhaustion clear in his tone.

Parrish looked doubtful and confused. Peter appeared interested.

“Trust me, Scott, she can do it!” Stiles said, as he reached in the back seat of the Jeep to pull out his shirt, or what remained. Nymeria already had the shirt in her mouth, jaws locked firmly in place. “Can you find him girl? Can you find my dad?”

The wolf turned to Remus and Brin. All three took off bolting out of the vehicle and into the tree line. Stiles grabbed his trusty bat and followed. The werewolves had no trouble at all keeping up. Stiles surprised himself by finding he was holding his own on the pups’ trail too. He hopped that Parrish and the rest of the humans were able to keep a close of enough distance. But there was not time to lose. The Darach had all three of its victims. They had to go now!


	16. Chapter 16

The rain picked up pace, as did the wolf pups. The sky lit up periodically with cracks of lightning. The surrounding booms from the thunder would reverberate deep in Stiles's chest. He nicked his arm on a low hanging branch he couldn't see, thanks to the rain. He continued on, because lives depended on it.

The werewolves kept up no problem, and Derek swooped by causing Stiles to narrowly miss another branch. After what might have been only a few minutes of running, it felt like hours in the cold rain, the group came to an stop in a large secluded clearing. In the center stood a gigantic tree stump. The three wolf cubs all sat whining next to the stump, pawing at the ground.

“Ah, the Nemeton.” Deaton said as he strode out of the forest with the other Humans and Boyd, who made sure no one was lost or left behind.

“She was once a powerful tree.” Peter commented, patting the stump affectionately.

“Why are we here?” Asked Parrish. He checked his holster, just to be sure. The air had an eerie sense to it. It was quiet aside from the pounding rain and thunder. No one looked pleased with how wet they were, tempers were high.

“Where are they?” Scott demanded of Stiles. Lightning crack just above them.

“I don't, I don't know.” Stiles turned to Nymeria, “did you lose the scent girl?” He asked his wolf.

She only continued to paw at the ground frantically. Thunder boomed.

“I think I came here, once.” Derek said sounding unsure, “when I was a teen, when I…I killed Paige.”

Parrish looked hard at Derek. “Is this an admission?” He asked, fiddling with his cuffs.

Lightning cracked again.

Ignoring the cop, Derek continued, “I think it was underground, here.” The alpha scrunched up his face trying to remember. “A root cellar! I don't remember how to get in.”

As he spoke Peter lazily lifted the root cellar doors as if he knew all along. At the same time a bolt of lightning hit the center of the nemeton. Miraculously, everyone was fine, despite their close proximity. The air sizzled. Stiles felt a renewed sense of hope as Peter stood back allowing the teens to get in close. He gripped his bat with excitement, this was it, their parents were down there and they were alive he could feel it.

Stiles didn't wait for an invitation or an order. He took off inside the cellar followed closely by Scott and Allison. All three of their parents were tied together in a circle in the center of the cellar. There was so much rope. The ground above them shook more and more with each booming thunderbolt. Melissa was out cold. Her head lolled forward, hair swept over her face. Chris was awake but gagged and unable to speak. But the booming voice screaming Stiles's name repeatedly was audible over the pounding rain above.

Stiles ran to his father and hugged him and started working on untying the knots. Scott however, shifted and proceed to slice through Melissa's rope with ease. The sheriff saw this and immediately freaked out, trying to shield his son behind him from what he presumed was a monster.

“Dad, dad, it's okay. It's just Scott. He's a werewolf.” Stiles assured his father as Scott carried his mother past. Stiles's dad looked terrified. He would continue to shift in front of Stiles to keep his son out of reach of the ‘monster’. Scott returned to help Allison with her father’s rope. His yellow eyes glowed brightly in the dark, cramped cellar as dust circled around them.

The Sheriff took a good long look at his ‘other son’. “Does your mother know?” He asked slowly, deciding that is indeed Scott.

“Yes.” The sheriff jumped as he glimpsed Scott's teeth when he spoke.

“Dad, it's okay, really. Were going to get you out of here, and I'll show you everything,” Stiles said as he grew more frustrated with his father's knots.

Scott helped Allison and Chris up and returned to assist Stiles, but just then a loud boom shook the roof and it collapsed in on itself.

For several moments, no one dared to move or speak. All you could see was dust and sand. Scott stood in the hole where the door was leaving him with a source of air, but he wasn't so sure about the others.

“Stiles! Oh my gods, Stiles! No!” Scott's shouts of panic alerted the group above that something was wrong. Derek tried to jump down the hole, but Scott occupied the only visible space. The ground had crumbled below without a full cave-in above. The nemeton's stump didn't event appear to have shifted. It was weird.

Scott refused to budge and didn't allow Derek to take his place while he pleaded for his friend to be okay.

“Please Stiles, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I was blaming you, I was just mad. And you were there, you can’t die on me, dude. Please, I'm sorry.” His pleads became one continuous ramble. “I'm so sorry.” No sound came from the swirling mass of sand, even with his werewolf eyes, Scott couldn't see anything.

The dust from the earth moving finally settled and Stiles was visible again. He was straining with all his might to hold up a solid patch of earth above his father's head. His dad was knocked unconscious with the impact, and Stiles sported a trail of blood from his temple, but the wooden bat he kept with him at all times, after that one time Scott’s mom attempted to use it on him, was holding up the roof giving the two a tiny space to breathe. The bat couldn't support itself, however, and Stiles held it firm, shaking slightly from the effort. A low creaking noise could be heard and Stiles adjusted his grip, the bat would give out any second now and with it Stiles’ ability to keep the ceiling up.

“ ‘Urry Scott,” was all Stiles could manage. It was enough. Scott leaned over and sliced the sheriff free. The werewolf pulled him to the entrance and several hands assisted in getting Stiles's dad out of the hole. Stiles looked to Scott. The two stared eye to eye. No need to communicate in words, they both understood. With a nod of his head to his brother, Stiles let the bat go, which instantly crumbled and splintered from the pressure above. Stiles was yanked out of the way just in time. The two boys breathed in heavily, gulping down fresh air from the surface as their heads battled for dominance in the small space of the doorway.

With werewolf strength, Stiles was pulled free from the dirt that trapped his legs and up to the surface yet again. Fresh air never tasted so good. He was being crushed by a worried alpha who was checking his every inch for injury. Derek spent a long time fiddling with the cut on Stiles’s temple. The others helped Scott up, and Stiles and Scott shared a moment's glance. A understanding between the two dirt covered boys. Scott was sorry for his earlier behavior, it doesn't excuse it, but at least the high tension between the two could be dropped.

Derek refused to let go of Stiles who also had three wolf babies bouncing excitedly at his feet. He tried to pat them and praise them, but to no avail. Derek’s hold was firm, binding the teen in a backwards hug. Something the Sheriff, who was now awake, was quick to notice.

“Son! I…Oh thank gods you're alright!” He took in deep breaths as he spoke. “She, this creature…”

“It was the darach dad!” Stiles said as he was finally allowed to bend over to interact with his smart little tracking wolves. “Everything I told you was true…everything”

“Werewolves.” The sheriff looked apprehensive at the group around him and joined Parrish’s side almost in relief. The officer was kneeling next to Melissa checking her over. Deaton was doing the same for a grumpy looking Chris who despite his daughter’s hold and bid for attention was staring at Peter.

The older werewolf crossed his arms with clawed hands glaring right back. The threat was plain on his face.

The relief from the parental rescue was short lived. The storm had yet let up. And the lightning strikes seemed to only increase in number. It happened so fast. One crack of lightning it was the large group in the clearing. And the next, a flash of lightning, and it was the large group in the clearing, separated by mountain ash circles and magical barriers, as Jennifer walked between them.

Derek, Boyd, Erica, Jackson, and Peter were in one circle on the left side of the clearing. Lydia and the puppies were pushed back even further by an invisible barrier. She pushed up against thin air unable to walk forward, the wolves were barking and growling madly. They were trapped.

On the right side of the clearing Isaac and Scott had individual mountain ash circles. The parents, deputy, Allison, Danny, and Dr. Deaton were in a similar enclosure as Lydia. Allison was pounding against the edge of the magical barrier. Trying to force her way free. The sheriff quickly took Parrish’s side arm and yelled out to the newcomer, asking if her cage could withstand his Glock 22.

The darach ignored him. But Chris was quick to halt the sheriff from attempting such a feat. Deaton pressed up against the impediment, examining it. Melissa had started to stir.

Outside of any barriers stood Stiles who was facing a wide smiling Jennifer. Thunder broke the silent stand off and she held her hands up. Her smile grew from open and inviting to sharp, dangerously daring. “Stiles…Stiles…what to do with you?” Multiple lightning strikes flashed ominously behind her, followed by the loudest boom yet.


	17. Chapter 17

The static in the air crackled. Stiles was sure his hair stood on end, despite being soaked. He was suddenly thankful for the protection barrier around his young puppies, around his friends and father. Lightning struck the ground on either side of him as the rain continued its onslaught. Despite the close proximity, he remained unscathed. Jennifer held her arms up as if she was calling to the heavens, was she controlling the weather?

Allison’s quiver floated upwards on its own. It was strapped to her back, but that didn't prevent two of the arrows from making their way to Jennifer’s waiting hands.

Lydia screamed against her barrier, rippling the air around herself.

“Stiles! It was a simple plan, really. Use the Beacon Hills pack to take out the Alpha of Alphas, maybe a few of the others as well. Leaving Kali open and susceptible to my attack. All these sacrifices will have been for naught, if she gets away!” Jennifer screamed over the sound of the pouring rain. She punctuated each word with a clink of metal as the arrows hit one another. What was her plan with those? She didn't take the bow.

Stiles stood defenseless, all alone. His bat was broken, his wolves were trapped, his pack was unable to protect him, and his father was crying, watching as his son faced a demon he was powerless to stop. The only weapon he had was the wolfsbane bullet Derek had given him. He happened to be wearing those pants and could feel the bullet in his pocket against his leg. But what good would that do without a gun? A shiver ran through him. He was cold. His head hurt.

Man, that rain was annoying. If Jennifer was controlling it, surely she could let it up now. She had everyone right where she wanted them.

“Can you at least knock off the rain first?” Stiles shouted back. “Unless you're big plan was to drown us all?”

“The rain!?” Jennifer moved closer. “I can’t control the rain…” If anything the downpour increased at these words, proving just how not in-control the darach was. “No, you don't know what you are, do you? Hemmm, it only makes this easier.” She held up her hands again and this time several rocks flew into the air on her command, they hovered for a minute before pelting themselves at the unsuspecting teen.

Several shouts of ‘Stiles!’ and ‘Watch out!’ could be heard from the group around them. Stiles was faster than he looked, however (thank you lacrosse practice), and ducked just in time to avoid the big one, but he took several of the smaller rocks as a result.

She tried this method again. Stiles ducked as many as he could, but he took a quick smack to his already bleeding temple. His head was pounding. Another one hit him so hard in the sternum, he may have broken a rib or two.

“Damn!” Stiles swore loudly as he took several more pelts.

“Not a fan of death by stoning?” Jennifer called out. “How about a spear instead?”

A thin but long tree branch came whizzing by. Stiles dodged but stumbled, tripping over a rock and landing knees down into the soaked earth. His hands braced his fall and made squelching sound as he pulled them back out of the mud. He ducked again, to avoid taking an arrow through his forehead. So that's her plan. No need for the bow if you have telekinesis. He felt a tingle in his hands as they crashed back into the earth. A spark flew through his body from the impact? Or from the ground itself? He stared at his mud covered hands, still kneeling.

Jennifer took her time as she approached. Stiles attempted to stand but was smacked on the back by a larger branch. He stumbled forward, landing hard on the earth for a third time. The mud was like sludge coating his entire front, he struggled to rise.

Stiles made it back to a kneeling position. The mud made it difficult to stand fully, but it was almost forming a protective layer against the small twigs that were currently assaulting him. His head throbbed. His chest hurt. Jennifer was close now, too close.

The spear like branch came zipping through the air once more heading for his head this time. The mud hindered his movement too much, he dodged just in the nick of time, right into the pathway of the other arrow. It hit its intended target: Stiles's heart (“Stiles!”). There is no doubt in his mind that he would be dead right now if the layer of mud on his chest hadn't miraculously hardened to form a shield from the impact. Strange.

Jennifer looked disappointed.

“Very well, I suppose it's all for the best, I need your blood to spill on the Nemeton, anyways.” She glared down, only half a foot away now. “If you had just stayed out of it…I would never have known…why do you think the wolves’ mother chose you? Sure the alpha's marked her after the fact, but she chose you to care for her young. Forced her sanity to hold just long enough to find you…a Paladin of Earth, Nature’s Keeper, Protector of All That Lives, you go by many names, Mr. Stilinski. But they all mean the same thing, a Guardian of Nature itself! The ultimate sacrifice!”

This was it. Stiles was going to die on his knees in front of everyone he cares about. Jennifer produced a garrote out of nowhere.

Lydia's sobs were louder than the rain.

“Get up!” Derek roared from the sidelines, “get up, now! That's an order.” Stiles didn't need look to know his eyes were blazing red.

More voices chimed in. “Move Stilinski!” That was Jackson.

“Come on Batman!” Erica.

“Let's go son!” His dad shouted.

“Get up!” Derek said again.

“Stiles, please! Please move. Come on, I need you!” Stiles looked to Scott who had large tears rolling down his face as he pleaded. “Please, please get up!”

Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!

Stiles heard the desperation in the barks of his young wolves. They had already watched a parent die. He couldn't let them see that again.

Stile snapped his head back to face Jennifer. His glare was cold. Ice cold. The pupils of his eyes turned a glowing white. Lightning struck on the inch of ground between Stiles and Jennifer. The move was unexpected by both parties. Jennifer stumbled back and lost control of the power she was using to make herself look like a young woman. The grotesque beast was back, shaking its head. Stiles found the energy to push himself up to a standing position.

More flashes of light. The clouds above now focused their attention solely on pushing the darach further away from Stiles.

“You don't understand the ways yet, you can’t control anything!” She spat at Stiles as she stumbled back with each strike of lightning.

Stiles wasn't so sure. It had stopped raining as soon as the first strike hit the ground between them. The headache he had from the pounding rain was already beginning to subside. His will did that. He looked at the darach and wish death upon her. She had messed with the balance of nature for the last time. The lightning strikes had her pinned against the Nemeton.

Stiles calmly walked over and wished for the tree to grow. He wished for all the power obtained by the darach to go back into the tree, back into nature. Stiles placed a hand to the forehead of the hideous figure in front of him. She was transformed again into the beautiful Jennifer Blake.

“Sit.” Stiles ordered. The darach obeyed. But she looked confused as to why she did so. Stiles climbed up on the stump himself and sat cross legged in front of her. He took her hands and placed them flat on the tree’s surface. A glow emitted from Stiles. Bright and golden. A similar shine emitted from Jennifer, although hers was much more dimmed. The lights grew, until the two balls merged into one, the giant glowing sphere encircled both Stiles and the darach and was expanding until it encompassed the entire tree root. The light from Stiles became blinding, everyone had to look away to shield their eyes.

It grew and grew until it was larger than any of the trees surrounding the clearing. As the rain ceased, the clouds receded and light from the sun engulfed the clearing suddenly. Everyone had forgotten that it was actually still day time. The glowing orb formed the shape of a tree. A golden tree with golden leaves. It shone radiantly but was quickly fading to actual tree bark and healthy green leaves.

The Nemeton was born anew.

***

It took several moments for the humans and banshee to realize they were free to move as they would like. The three real wolves, though, howled at the edge of the faintly shining tree. Sad howls. They wanted Stiles.

Deaton broke all the ash circles.

The group examined the very solid tree. Stiles and the darach were nowhere to be found.

“Can you hear their heart beats?” Lydia asked.

Several werewolves said no.

This didn't stop the Sheriff from suggesting they cut it down immediately. “My son’s in there!”

“I don't think so Sheriff, your son wished for life for the tree. The tree being restored will certainly balance nature in this area. The animals should start to return immediately.” The vet said as he scrutinized every inch of the tree. “Miracles do happen…his life for the life of many, truly the ultimate sacrifice...” he continued to mutter to himself.

“Sacrifice!? No!!” The sheriff boomed. “No! I did not give him permission to do that!”

“Stiles is gone?” Scott asked his boss, his voice low.

“No!” Lydia cried.

“Stiles…” Derek leaned his forehead against the tree.

“Well isn't this touching.” Deucalion said as he emerged from the tree line of the opposite side of the clearing, the rest of the alpha pack in tow. “Thank you for removing that pesky darach for us, I'm afraid my Kali here didn't quite do the job the first time.”

The werewolves formed a protective line in front of their humans. Nymeria joined Derek at the center.


	18. Chapter 18

“What the hell just happened?” Parrish questioned. He walked out from behind the protective line of werewolves, clearly unaware that the newcomers were dangerous. “Is Stiles… is Stiles a tree? What the...”

Deucalion didn’t care for the interruption. He motioned for one of the twins to attack.

The twin only needed a partial shift to cause Parrish to freeze in place from fear. Lydia saw what was about to happen and rushed out to help the unsuspecting deputy. Lydia screamed. She screamed with all her might and sent the alpha twin flying backwards with the force of it. The twin tripped ungracefully, but he looked appreciative of Lydia's ability, or, perhaps, her looks. Either way he sent the banshee a huge grin that wasn't returned.

Kali didn't wait for an order to attack, she went straight for Derek, but this time Nymeria was able to attack first. She dodged a kick aimed for her head and jumped, sinking her canines deep into the female alpha's stomach. The shock caused her to pause and Remus and Brin both jumped out of nowhere to join their sister. They needed pay back for Brin’s concussion. The three wolves must have known or understood werewolf healing because once their teeth were in, they refused to let go. Scott and Isaac trapped a clawed hand each to prevent the red-eyed brunette alpha from grabbing the pups’ throats. The effort from the struggle had Kali on her knees.

Nymeria finally let go, but not before taking a chunk of the alpha’s skin and muscle with her. She pounced with all her might causing Kali to fall back Nymeria growled threateningly at her throat. Teeth placed just over her pulse point. She didn't bite. She looked to her alpha to continue. She stared at Derek’s eyes waiting for the command to kill.

Derek was overwhelmed by the wolves’ sense of pack structure and was caught off guard. Instead of treating them like animals he spoke as if they understood English, clear as day, just like Stiles would. He told them to wait but be ready. He then turned to Deucalion who looked like he had enjoyed the whole affair.

“The wolves are impressive. Your emissary did a wonderful job with them, did he not? Although he says he doesn't belong to you. Doesn't want you?” Deucalion added. “To let a High Druid slip through your finger tips…your mother would be so disappointed in you…” The old blind alpha shook his head.

Derek didn't rise to take the bait. The large, bald alpha appeared ready to come to the pinned alpha's aid any minute, regardless of what Deucalion said.

“Let's end this peacefully. We'll return your beta to you, you can leave Hale territory for good.”

“Ahh see she's not a beta, but an alpha. One who failed to kill her emissary when ordered to do so.” Deucalion sneered the words. “One who failed to heed my warning and acted out of turn. I don't need an alpha like that in my pack…”

The other alpha's behind him grew restless.

“Now! I came for revenge, for the loss of my eyes, and for your ignorance in letting that Argent get away.”

This got Chris’s attention. He moved to interrupt but was silenced by his daughter.

“Ah yes, I see your pack is protecting more of them, mixing with that kind will be the death of you,” Deucalion continued. “A death I'd be happy to deliver myself, but not today. Do you smell that?”

Smell what? Oh people approaching. Hunters approaching. Hunters with wolfsbane. And fall crisp air mixed with fresh baked cookies, mixed with something new…ozone. Derek knew that scent, a scent that is unmistakably Stiles.

“I do.” Derek narrowed his eyes. What was Deucalion planning? “Nymeria let her up.”

Nymeria did as asked, with Brin and a Remus following suit. The three stood at the ready.  
“Missed me?” Stiles called as he entered the clearing he had four men with him as well. Armed with crossbows and large knifes, these men were hunters. But, the strangest part: Gerard Argent himself was with them.

Stiles faced Chris, “Your plan to take out the alpha pack included only four hunters?”

Chris chose not to respond. He looked interested to see his father among the group. His father had been on the run after all.

“Ahh, I thank you Stiles, for bringing the hunters to me, saves me the trouble of finding them later.” Deucalion said pleasantly, as he took a step towards the latest group to join the clearing.

“Not so fast!” Stiles called out. “You see, I saw them as I saw everything in the preserve when I was connected to the tree. I saw you too. I know who you truly want revenge on, so I've brought him here. So, let's make a deal. You get Gerard and you leave for good! You leave my pack alone!” Stiles' eyes turned an iridescent white with the words.

“I am not going to be handed over so easily!” Gerard attempted to protest but he dribbled black blood from his mouth with each word. He was a mess. One of his minions handed the older hunter a cloth.

“Chris, I know I asked Allison to tell you about the alpha pack's presence, but I asking now that you honor this deal. Take your hunters.” As Stiles said this, the earth seemed to shift around the hunter’s feet, forcing them to stand behind Chris Argent.

“ Do we have a deal?” Stiles asked again.

“ That's my… I can't just let you kill my dad.” Chris sounded unsure of himself.

“Dad.” Allison took her dad’s arm for comfort and shook her head.

“No one is killing anyone!” The Sheriff yelled. “Stiles are you okay?”

“Yeah Dad, I'm good.” Stiles’s head wound had clotted over, but he was still covered in dirt and mud and looked distressed with each breath. “This is the man who beat me in his basement on the night of the lacrosse game a couple of months ago, Dad. He has killed, a lot. We’re just giving him to the alphas, what they do with him is up to them.

The Sheriff looked ready to protest, but Stiles turned his attention back to Chris.

“Do we have a deal?” Stiles asked for a third time.

Chris gave one nod of his head.

“No deal.” Deucalion said.

“What do you want then?” Derek asked. He was angry at the alpha pack, and relieved that Stiles was relatively okay.

“Stiles,” Deucalion addressed the teen instead. “Do you still consider yourself without a pack?” The older man asked, with a gleam in his eye.

“No. I have a pack.” Stiles answered quickly, without hesitation.

“Too bad.” Deucalion replied, but it must had been received as a command to attack by all the other alphas. All four of them shifted and pounced so quickly. Kali held Danny by the throat. One twin grabbed Remus while the other pinned a very unsuspecting and barely aware Melissa face first into the ground. The giant bald one went for Scott but ended up with Boyd held with his arms twisted behind his back.

“Now.” Everyone froze. “Let me ask that again. Do you have a pack? One who is there for you always. Who has never left you out of pack affairs? Does your pack trust you and listen to you, heed your warnings and take your advice?”

Stiles hesitated. While Boyd and Melissa could survive their current predicaments, Danny would surely have his throat ripped out before anyone could save him and Remus’s head looked like it was being squeezed, the alpha could smash it in if he so wished.

“I do. I do have a pack, but if you are threatening the lives of my friends, I'll.. I'll go with you.” Stiles answered without looking at anyone aside from the demon wolf before him.

“Good.” Deucalion motioned for his pack to join him again. Kali did not let Danny go, for insurance.

“Can I? Can I say good bye to them?” Stiles asked. Derek’s mouth hung open. What just happened. Peter made a noise of protest. Scott was crying again. The emotional rollercoaster just becoming too much for the crooked jawed werewolf.

“Just one.”

Oh. Well, in that case, “Nymeria! Nymers, girl come here.” The little wolfed pranced over giving Stiles happy licks as he bent down to greet her. She was taking a layer of dirt off the teen’s face. Stiles reached into his pockets and gave Nymeria something to hold and simply said “for my dad.” The young female wolf strode over to the Sheriff as Stiles stood to accompany the alpha pack.

“So, we will take Gerard and Stiles and leave Hale territory forever.” Deucalion said airily towards Derek who still had his mouth open. How was this happening to him, to them, to Stiles?

“No.” The broody alpha replied. “No way!”

“Hey, it's okay big guy, it will be like before all this mess, you guys didn't even realize I wasn't there. Just, take care of my babies for me.”

“No, Stiles, people can't just take you!” The Sheriff had had enough. Nymeria was pawing away heavily at his feet as he watched his son join the scariest group of people he had ever seen.

“It's okay dad, really.” Stiles assured him. “You can go back to work and pin all of the murders on your runaway son, or on Jennifer, but since she kind of doesn't exist anymore, or, well, I guess she's a tree. I'm not sure how that one will work for you.”

Gerard had yet to join them, so Stiles used his magic to force his feet to move by manipulating the ground around them.

The alpha of alpha wasted no time. As soon as Gerard was within range, he clawed his throat out. The old man dropped to the ground unceremoniously. Black blood pooled all around. Almost everyone looked away in disgust.

“You should probably cut that body in half, ensure he doesn't come back.” Peter suggested airily.

Allison cried into her dad's shoulder.

Nymeria barked. She was done with being ignored by Stiles' dad, who finally bent down to acknowledge her.

Deucalion announced that he had overstayed his welcome and signaled for the pack to leave. He placed a clawed hand on the back of Stiles's neck to steer him with them. Stiles turned without so much of a look back at his former pack, friends, or family.

BANG!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge thank you to everyone who stuck with me from the beginning! Big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, left kudos, and subscribed! 
> 
> Sequel: Lone Human should wrap up soon!
> 
>  

BANG!

The next two minutes passed in slow motion. Stiles was walking rather forcefully, with nails digging in, just on the edge of penetrating the back of his neck. The next moment the nails were gone and a body to his left dropped with a heavy thud to the forest floor. After that, someone had turned off the sound, all he could hear was a constant ringing. Something wet was splattered on the back and side of his head. With wide eyes he turned around and saw his father, gun still raised. Stiles reached up to wipe the liquid from his face. He removed his hand to peer at it. It was red. The liquid was blood. He had blood, a lot of blood dripping from the back of his head. Stiles continued to wipe, he was smearing it. If it was his, he wasn't in pain, perhaps just shock? It became difficult to breathe. He looked and all the alphas around him were frozen, hands in the air. The female one was yelling something, but he couldn't hear. He couldn't hear anything.

He glanced back at his dad and next to him stood five hunters, Chris and Allison included. All with their bows drawn and all pointing to Stiles's left or right. His gaze moved down to the ground. Deucalion laid motionless, he was missing half a head. Stiles was going to be sick. He dropped to his knees, but before he hit the ground, someone had caught him. Stiles peered up into his alpha's greenish, worried eyes. He had questions, but he still couldn't quite hear anything.

His father and Melissa came pushing their way through the three bouncing wolf pups to examine him. Stiles followed Melissa's instructions the best he could without actually being able to hear her. He craned his neck to see what was happening with the alphas around them. Parrish was handcuffing them. He tried to tell his father that it wouldn't work, but several people hushed him at once. Derek repeatedly tried to get his attention to keep him focused so Mrs. McCall could nurse her patient. After deciding that there were plenty of adults around to handle the situation, Stiles closed his eyes against the alpha's chest and focused on his breathing.

It was very calming. Soon Stiles' own breaths were in sync and he could almost hear the sound his chest was making. It sounded a little wheezy, oh, right, he probably had a broken rib from that damn rock. That seemed ages ago.

“…iles…Stiles…can you hear me yet, Stiles?” It was Melissa's soothing voice. She had a nice voice.

He turned to gaze at the nurse with a quick bob of his head to let her know his hearing was returning.

“Good, good. You were very close to the target. Sometimes it could take half a day for your hearing to return at that distance. We’re going to take you to the ER for a full examination.” It was her professional voice, but Stiles was quick to protest.

“No. No ER, ever…ever again.” He was proud of the steadiness in his voice.

“Come on son, you need to go, no arguments.” The Sheriff attempted to reason with him.

“You arrested me there…No, dad.” Stiles argued regardless.

The Sheriff looked so guilty at this statement that he didn't even put up a fight.

“May I recommend my clinic?” The vet appeared over Derek's head with a grin on his face, as if he wasn't in the middle of a battle scene.

***

The newly reformed Hale pack made their way to the clinic. Nymeria now held her new favorite shirt, the article of clothing that had sent the group into the woods not that long ago. Everyone was wet and dirty, but none more so than Stiles, who was wet and dirty and bloody. Dr. Deaton was able to use his remote X-ray machine to confirm that he did indeed have a cracked rib, just one, though. His lungs were okay, besides the fact that he was naturally taking shallower breaths to compensate for the discomfort. At these words the alpha immediately attempted to siphon the pain, but Scott, with the most apologetic face ever, beat him to it and begged to be allowed to help. Stiles initially tried to refuse, but his dad insisted it was werewolf pain meds or the hospital. As Melissa properly stitched the now cleaned cut on Stiles's temple, the group launched into questions about what had actually happened.

It seemed everyone had questions. Isaac asked how the Sheriff got the wolfsbane bullet. Boyd wanted to know how Stiles ended up with Gerard. Chris was curious about that as well. Peter asked how long the hunters would be in town. Scott, bless him, asked how Stiles got out of the tree. Lydia was curious how permanent Deucalion’s death would be with a head wound like that. Deaton asked for a private word with Stiles later to discuss his new connection with the Nemeton. Erica decided to tell everyone she was hungry. Derek wanted to know why Stiles would be so willing to go with the alphas. Everyone seemed in agreement with that question being addressed. And Stiles was curious why they arrested the alphas and sent them to a station with people they could and would kill to free themselves.

Everyone talked over each other until the wolves started to bark and bring attention to the fact that Stiles was attempting to explain, he maneuvered himself into a comfortable sitting position on the metal table, leaning against Derek and facing the rest of the group. The alpha couldn't keep a smile from creeping up his face.

“I wasn't in the tree, I forced Jennifer to use her magic to form it. She essentially doesn't exist anymore. It's like her being was sustained by magic, dark magic, gained from the sacrifices. As a Druid it was her job to care for nature and protect the balance and she neglected that. She formed the tree with that power, I just forced her to do it.

“How?” Allison asked.

“I'm not sure. I wanted it to happen, so it did.”

“Okay. So where did you go?” Scott questioned.

“Well, I saw everything, I saw the alphas waiting just on the edge of where you wolves would sense them, and I saw the hunters waiting by our vehicles. Chris, I'm assuming you tipped them off, but you didn't know that they were still in contact with your father.” Chris nodded.

“Gerard probably wanted it that way. He was on the run. Not a werewolf after the bite, but no longer sick with cancer and suffering from the poison in his system. He probably was hoping one of the alphas would bite him again, probably didn't even realize he had already pissed these ones off, that man had so many enemies…” Stiles shook his head, “Anyways, I thought I needed to bring them to the clearing to hand Gerard to the alphas, and there I was. You should have seen them jump! Of course, they did not want to go with me and that's when I discovered the neat trick with the ground and their feat. Fortunately, they didn't have time to realize what I was doing and didn't attack.”

“Okay, so it sounds like a half concocted plan at best, but it worked.” Lydia pursed her lips.

“Well, we arrived.” Stiles shrugged. “You were there for the rest.”

“Why did you go with the alphas?” Derek asked at the same time, Boyd said “and the bullet?”

“Oh, well, they had you,” Stiles looked at Danny and Remus, “in really bad positions. They were going to kill them. I couldn't let that happen. And it's not like I was going to join their pack. I meant it, I have a pack. I'm connected to the Nemeton now, I'm a part of the Hale territory.” Stiles said with confidence.

“And, the bullet?”

“Nymeria gave it to me.” The Sheriff piped up. He was still looking at his son in awe. “After Stiles said goodbye to her, he must have slipped it into her mouth. And I still had Parrish’s sidearm. She had it at my feet and kept pawing at me until I noticed. Those are the smartest dogs, and I noticed more than once they were referred to as wolves, which I'm now thinking means actual wolves as in you brought three real wolves from the forest into my home.” He sounded stern, but had a smile on his face, just happy his son is going to be okay.

“I… did. Sorry Dad, they needed me. And, I needed them, I had no one. I meant what I said, you were all too busy to even notice I wasn't around, and whether or not you cared is beside the point, because I went weeks with no one to talk to, and no one noticed. I mean it, I needed them too.” Stiles voice shook with the admission.

Derek squeezed his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.” Stiles shrugged.

“It really isn't, I was working a lot, but I should have been there for you too.” The Sheriff admitted.

“Really, it's okay. I wouldn't trade these guys for anything.” Stiles patted the table and Remus and Nymeria jumped up. Brin tried but failed. He was helped out by Erica who was checking something on her phone.

“That was your intended bullet by the way, all mighty alpha!” Stiles turned to address him.

Most people looked confused by this but Chris perked up. “It was a nice shot, but the fact that it was that bullet… I made that one with a strong dose of wolfsbane, no going back after it was fired.” Chris addressed the alpha, “I'm sorry too, that is the hunter way, to take our own lives once bitten, it's not your way, and I shouldn't have encouraged it.” He nudged Allison who nodded in agreement.

“I'm sorry too, I just, you said they would make you kill Scott and everyone else. We both didn't want that to happen…” Allison trailed off looking guilty.

Most of the werewolves looked uncomfortable with this fact.

“So Deucalion’s body? Is he dead-dead or Peter-dead?” Stiles asked, to distract from the realization.

“The hunters are taking care of both him and Gerard. And then leaving town.” Chris supplied.

“Parrish has wolfsbane cuffs he is using to escort the remaining alphas out of town as well.” Deaton elaborated.

“We can't hold them.” Stiles dad answered the unasked question, “and Deucalion technically did the only crime I witnessed and he was kidnapping you. Makes my kill justified.”

Stiles scrutinized his dad's words. In all of his years on the force, his father had only had to take the life of one other man and it sent him to the bottle every night for a month straight. “Dad?”

“I'm sure son, he was harming you, my only son, I had the means to stop him, get his hands off of you, and I took it.” His dad's voice was firm.

The two hugged, longer and with more force than any of the few previous hugs that summer.

“Thanks Dad.”

Melissa placed an arm around the Sheriff, “We love you kiddo, you know that right?”

“All of us.” Scott piped in.

Just then several werewolf heads perked up in the direction of the front of the clinic.

“Just the pizza, carry on!” Erica called as she held out a waiting hand to Derek who reluctantly gave over his wallet. The she-wolf bounced out of the crowded room to get the door before the pizza guy could even knock.

They ate. Deaton took a moment to schedule a follow up appointment for Stiles, which was a ruse to discuss his new found affinity with nature, and how to properly develop it. The Sheriff had a bit of a talk with Derek who looked in agreement with everything he had to say, the word ‘underage’ was used a lot. Peter, after witnessing this exchange, decided to take Stiles aside and mock lecture him. ‘If you do anything to break my nephew’s heart!’ Deputy Parrish arrived eventually and was filled in on all things supernatural. He took Lydia aside and basically let her know that should her werewolf boyfriend ever abuse his power over her, that he would be there. This exchange didn't go unnoticed by the sheriff. All in all it was a long night, the group didn't disperse until well after midnight.

***

When Stiles woke up on Friday morning, his phone had eight text messages reminding him to be at the pack meeting that night. He replied back to the group, saying he couldn't make it, he already had plans. He then sent a text confirming said plans with Danny who was really excited Stiles remembered. His little wolf pack grumbled until Stiles stopped ignoring them and gave them his love and attention.

Today was going to be a good day. The feeling of impending doom had finally lifted. The Sheriff asked Stiles to go to Sam’s diner with him for breakfast, and was more than amused to find that Stiles's wolves were well received from the staff at their usual booth near the back. The two talked about everything and nothing. With a little help from Parrish, his dad told him they had a plan to pin the murders on a mysterious brunette, one who obviously wouldn't be able to continue, but as far as the FBI would have to know, she was on the run. The plan was that she had ‘admitted’ to trying to frame the Sheriff's son, because she hoped the controversy would pull attention away from herself. Unfortunately, Parrish was unable to detain her but he had a name and search warrant of her apartment which surely would back his claim. Especially because Peter had planted the knife there after carefully removing all traces of Stiles from it. His father told him he expected to be back at work by the end of the week.

“Do you…would you prefer if I maybe only come back as a deputy? The Sheriff's job is demanding and Parrish is getting a lot of praise as we speak, I'm sure he would be offered the job if I stepped down.” Stiles father asked him tentatively.

“What, Dad, no way! You love your job, I would hate myself if I did that to you, No!” Stiles couldn't believe what his dad was offering… for him. It sparked a warm feeling to know his father would be willing to do that so they could better their relationship. “How about we have a dinner night! And, a breakfast morning. And, on your days off we do something together, even if it's laze around and watch TV?”

“Sure, okay son. How do you feel about Melissa joining us on some of those lazy TV Sundays?” The Sheriff asked with apprehension.

“You know I love her, right? She can always join us, but… I'd still like one on one dinners so we can talk guy stuff sometimes too.” Stiles declared firmly.

“Hemmm, guy stuff like how you are in love with a 24 year old ex-murder suspect?” His dad asked with a knowing smirk.

Stiles spluttered on his drink, “Love!? I'm not sure, maybe, I don't know yet…”

“But…” his dad prompted.

“But, he makes me laugh sometimes and he is good with my babies, spoils them. He isn't Lydia with her goddess status and gorgeous strawberry blond hair, but his abs, Dad!” Stiles rambled, until he realized who he was talking with.

“I talked to him, he knows the rules, but I'm trusting you to keep them, no sex! No sex anywhere until you're eighteen, do you understand?” The Sheriff's cop voice was back.  
“Yes..yeah, Dad. Oh my gods we are not talking about this anymore!” Stiles’s pale skin was beet red by this point. Just then Sam arrived personally to deliver the food and distraction, with a wink in Stiles's direction.

“Thank you!” He mouthed back at the older cook.

***

That afternoon, Stiles had some time to spare before he hit the club scene with Danny, so he made the familiar trip out to the campgrounds with his beloved pups. He was surprised to find a surly alpha waiting for him, backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked nervously.

Of course Stiles let him. The alpha warned him that the entire pack decided pack night will be moved to the Jungle after Lydia told them of his plans to go out with Danny and his friends.

“It's okay, it'll be more fun with all of them anyways, and I'd like to hang out with Scott without having to come up with ways to prevent murder for once,” Stiles said nonchalantly. “How about you? Will you be coming?”

The alpha took a minute to respond. “Would it…would it be okay if I came as your date?” The pink tinge in his cheeks was a stark contrast on the usually big broody guy. He looked almost fragile.

“I would like that, we never did talk about that kiss…”

“Oh. Sorry for…”

“You better not be sorry for kissing me!” Stiles interrupted.

“It was in the heat of the moment, inappropriate.” Derek muttered.

“It was unique, and my first, so I'm glad it has a story.” Stiles shot the older man a small smile as they stepped their way into a clearing. “This is where I met them.” He didn't have to clarify who because all three pups howled. Their mother's remains were long gone, but they knew and were paying their respects.

“About your little companions, I talked to Deaton.” From the scowl on the alpha's face, Stiles assumed by ‘talked with Deaton’ he actually meant ‘threatened him with bodily harm’. “He says your little guys need space as they grow up, so umm, I know this is an assumption, but if I rebuilt the Ha…”

“Yes! Yes!” Stiles cut off the alpha's sentence. “Yes, they can live at the Hale house with you! I wouldn't have to say goodbye, just see you later!”

“Well, it was a large house, the whole pack had a space of their own, even if they didn't live with us all the time.” Derek continued. “I'd like that for our pack. I talked to Peter. Everyone could have their own room and I was thinking yours would be on the ground floor with its own access to the backyard for the wolves to visit you whenever they liked. The wolves can have their own rooms too if you'd want?”

Derek had never spoken so much at one time, he obviously put some thought into this.

“It sounds great, big guy!” The two found a nice soft patch of grass to occupy. A butterfly floated by and landed on Stiles's outstretched hand. “It looks like nature is returning as promised.”

“I think everything is returning to the way it was, my emissary.” Derek said as he gave the teen an intense look.

“No,” Stiles disagreed. “I think everything is going to be much better now,” he replied as he laid his head on the older man’s shoulder.

The wolves howled one more time, a promise that things would indeed get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 19 chapters, 40k in 13 days! I wonder if that is a record? Let me know in the comments for tag suggestions, warnings, rating issues!
> 
> Have any questions or comments? Let me know! Feel inspired to write your own version? Go for it! Want to complain about Stiles taking a lacrosse ball to his head from Jackson at close range, yeah sorry about that... But feel free to vent in the comments too! And again, thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for all the love and for reading!


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